LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF 
CALIFORNIA 

SAN  DIEGO      • 


JESUS   DELANEY 


A   NOVEL 


BY 


THE    MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

LONDON :    MACMILLAN  &  CO.,  LTD. 
1899 

All  rights  reserved 


COPYRIGHT,  1899, 
BY  THE  MACMILLAN  COMPANY. 


J.  S.  Cu§hlng  k  Co.  —  Berwick  &  Smith 

Norwood  Mass.  U.S.A. 


WRITTEN   EN   ROUTE 

OCTOBER  15,  189-. 

OFF  at  last!  It  is  now  full  ten  years  since  a 
lecture  by  the  Reverend  Luther  Lamb,  a  mission- 
ary, gave  me  the  idea  of  visiting  Mexico.  Such  a 
queer  people  he  described  —  and  his  great  work 
among  them  rooting  out  the  old  faith  and  planting 
the  new  ! 

I  was  not  what  you  would  call  a  church  man 
(few  of  us  are  on  'Change),  still  I  deemed  it  my 
duty  after  that  lecture  to  join  the  Mission  League, 
—  this,  too,  against  the  protest  of  my  partner, 
Brown,  whose  home  mission  hobby  even  then  was 
a  by-word  with  the  boys. 

Brown  has  statistics  that  are  very  tedious,  of 
1,500,000  drunkards,  300,000  chronic  criminals, 
and  Heaven  knows  how  many  bad  men  and 
women  of  all  sorts,  whose  reform,  he  says,  needs 
the  best  efforts  of  all  of  us  in  our  own  land  and  at 
our  own  doors.  And  he  has  a  fable  which  he  tells 


vi  WRITTEN   EN   ROUTE 

so  often  every  one  on  'Change  knows  it  by  heart. 
It  runs  thus  :  — 

"BROWN'S   FABLE 

"  Once  there  was  a  Good  Dog  who  took  it  in 
his  head  that  wolves  were  dogs  run  wild,  and  that 
if  they  had  the  right  sort  of  care  when  young  they 
would  be  dogs.  So  this  Good  Dog  left  his  own 
pups  (some  of  which  were  none  too  good),  and 
went  to  a  Strange  Land  where  he  found  a  wolf 
cub.  He  took  the  cub  home  with  him,  and  taught 
it  to  live  like  a  dog.  In  course  of  time  it  could 
stand  on  its  hind  legs,  raise  its  paws,  and  bark 
and  roll  its  eyes  as  if  in  speech  or  prayer.  When 
full  grown,  he  brought  it  back  to  the  Strange 
Land,  that  it  might  teach  the  wolves  there  to  live 
like  dogs.  But  night  came,  and  it  heard  the  far- 
off  cry  of  wolves  and  tried  to  go  to  them.  And 
when  the  Good  Dog  strove  to  hold  it  back,  it 
snarled  and  bit  him,  and  went  off.  It  was  still  a 
wolf." 

A  hard-headed  man,  Brown,  and  kind  at  heart ; 
but  like  all  people  of  the  sort,  he  lacks  breadth. 

I  have  never  had  reason  to  lose  faith  in  the 
mission  cause,  or  lessen  my  interest  in  the  work  of 
the  Reverend  Lamb  and  his  colaborers  in  Mexico. 

But  one  thing  or  another  has  put  off  my  trip 
there  until  now.  Free  from  business  and  family 


WRITTEN   EN   ROUTE  vii 

cares  (alas  !  that  such  freedom  so  seldom  comes 
with  the  capacity  to  enjoy  it!),  and  advised  by 
physicians  that  the  change  will  do  me  good,  I 
have  boarded  a  train  for  the  land  of  the  Monte- 
zumas. 

Brown  was  at  the  depot  to  see  me  off. 

"  Don't  bother  writing  letters,"  said  he.  "  Keep 
tab  in  your  own  way." 

I  shall  do  so. 


CONTENTS 


I.     Jesus  Delaney i 

II.  Evolution  of  a  Missionary       .         .         .         .10 

III.  The  Mission  Institute 17 

IV.  The  Mission  Tea 24 

V.     Seen  from  the  Roof 32 

VI.     A  Night's  Vigil 39 

VII.  The  Drive      .        .        4        .        .        .        .45 

VIII.  The  Stubby  Man    .        .        .        .         .        .55 

IX.  The  Arrest     .      '  .        .        .        .         .        .59 

X.     Incomunicado 66 

XI.     U.  S.  Consul  Leech 73 

XII.     Poor  Lupita 80 

XIII.  The  Challenge        ......      86 

XIV.  The  Acceptance      .        .        ...        .92 

XV.  Released         .        ,        .        .        .        .         .100 

XVI.  The  Duel        .        .        .        ....        .112 

XVII.  We  Breakfast          .        .        .        .        .        .     I2O 

XVIII.  Reappearance  of  Doctor  Medina     .         .         .125 


x  CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PACK 

XIX.  The  Transformation  .        .        .        .         .131 

XX.     The  Dinner  Party 136 

XXI.     Jesus  a  Bear 141 

XXII.  A  Spiritual  Awakening      ....     146 

XXIII.  A  Disturbed  Service 152 

XXIV.  Religion  vs.  Politics  .         .         .        .156 
XXV.  The  Ingenious  Plan  of  Miss  Anderson       .     161 

XXVI.     Jesus  in  Politics 167 

XXVII.     Heredity 171 

XXVIII.     The  Fiesta 175 

XXIX.  Jesus  goes  to  Santa  Rosa           .         .        .     181 

XXX.  Delivering  the  Letter         .         .        .         .187 

XXXI.  My  Ride  to  Santa  Rosa     .         .         .         .191 

XXXII.     A  Jolly  Party 198 

XXXIII.  A  Prosperous  Mission       ....     203 

XXXIV.  The  Accident 206 

XXXV.  Jesus  brings  a  Priest          .         .         .         .213 

XXXVI.  The  Padre  and  my  Prejudices    .        .         .217 

XXXVII.  Miss  Romero  and  her  Coachman       .         .     225 

XXXVIII.     El  Club  Progresivo 231 

XXXIX.     A  Bull-fight 236 

XL.  A  Minister  as  Matador       ....     243 

XLI.     Reds 252 

XLII.  Scene  at  a  Death-bed         .         .        .         .     255 


CONTENTS  xi 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XLIII.  The  Mandate     .        .        .        .        «        .  260 

XLIV.  Antonio  to  the  Rescue       ....  264 

XLV.  A  Terrified  Consul 269 

XLVI.  The  Wood  Vendor    .        .....  277 

XLVII.  Captured  .         ...        .         .        .284 

XLVIII.  Execution  of  Antonio        ....  292 

XL1X.  Love's  Legate 300 

L.  A  Metamorphosis      .....  305 

LI.  Wedding  Bells  that  tolled          .         .        .  309 

LII.  Mrs.  Lamb's  Resolve         .        .        .         .  311 

LIII.  Marshalling  for  Mercy        ....  316 

LIV.  L'Homme  Qui  Rit 320 

LV.  Porfirio  Diaz 324 

LVI.  Arma  Virumque 328 


JESUS   DELANEY 

CHAPTER   I 

JESUS   DELANEY 

"You  must  send  it  to  me  by  Jesus." 
Such  was  the  closing  sentence  of  a  note  from 
the  Reverend  Luther  Lamb  just  delivered  to  me 
at  the  Hotel  San  Jose"  in  Alameda. 

I  was  shocked  and  puzzled.  Of  course  this 
was  Mexico,  where  odd  things  may  be  looked  for. 
Elsewhere  in  the  world  civilization  and  barbarism 
are  at  war  —  here  they  seem  to  be  on  the  best  of 
terms,  cheek  by  jowl.  Although  less  than  two 
days  in  the  country,  I  have  seen  with  my  own 
eyes  blanketed  Indians  in  the  streets  saluting 
each  other  with  the  elegant  courtesy  of  Spanish 
grandees,  cultured  ladies  in  a  street  car  smoking 
cigarettes  and  puffing  the  smoke  from  mouth  and 
nose,  uniformed  soldiers  on  dress  parade  bare- 
footed, a  beggar  on  horseback  asking  alms,  a  far- 
mer ploughing  by  electric  light  and  using  for  a 


2  JESUS  DELANEY 

plough  a  forked  stick  as  in  the  days  of  Abraham, 
naked  cave-dwellers  within  earshot  of  a  printing 
press.  I  have  heard  of  bull  rings  in  the  shadow 
of  cathedrals,  priests  presiding  at  cock-fights  — 
"  at  every  hand,"  as  written  in  the  Mission  Clarion, 
"  much  of  modern  progress,  but  more  of  the  de- 
moralization of  Romanism  and  revolution." 

Sights  of  this  sort  are  apt  to  mix  one's  sense  of 
what's  becoming,  and  Brother  Lamb  had  lived 
here  in  charge  of  the  Mission  Institute  for  over  a 
dozen  years.  Yet  even  so,  that  a  Christian  minis- 
ter, a  missionary  in  fact  whose  sacred  work  it  was 
to  lift  the  Mexican  masses,  should  use  such  lan- 
guage was  inconceivable.  What  could  possess 
him  ?  There  was  no  excuse  for  it.  I  had  merely 
forgotten  to  send  him  a  book  which  I  had  prom- 
ised the  evening  before.  Surely  a  little  lapse  like 
that  was  the  last  thing  in  the  world  to  provoke 
profanity. 

Thus  pondering  on  the  note,  I  chanced  to  look 
up  at  the  young  Mexican  who  had  delivered  it. 

"  Is  Brother  Lamb,"  I  began,  then  recollecting 
that  I  must  speak  in  Spanish,  I  paused  to  put  to- 
gether the  sentence,  "Is  Brother  Lamb  well  ?  " 

You  would  think  that  this  ought  to  be  an  easy 
matter  for  one  who,  when  a  boy,  had  a  two  years' 
course  in  Spanish  at  the  Naval  Academy.  In- 


JESUS   DELANEY  3 

deed  I  passed  for  a  linguist  around  home,  and 
some  weeks  before  starting  for  Mexico  had  taken 
up  "  Spanish  at  a  Gulp "  to  put  the  finishing 
touches  on  my  fluency.  But  the  language  faculty 
failed  me  the  moment  I  crossed  the  border ;  at  the 
first  rattle  of  the  real  article  from  the  lips  of  a 
Mexican  Customs  officer,  I  was  stricken  deaf, 
dumb,  and  tongue-tied. 

Even  the  equivalents  of  these  four  simple 
words  had  to  be  laboriously  sought  and  dubiously 
dragged  forth :  — 

"  Esta  Brother  Lamb  —  I  mean  —  Hermano 
Lamb  bien  ?  " 

"Si,  senor,  muy  bien." 

The  reply  was  curiously  soft  and  musical,  and  I 
could  not  help  noticing  the  gracious  courtesy 
which  seemed  unconscious  of  my  broken  speech. 

Then  I  essayed,  "  Are  you  connected  with  the 
Mission  Institute  ? "  getting  it  like  this,  "  Esta 
Vd.  connected  —  I  mean  —  conectado  —  ah  !  — 
con  la  Institute  de  misionario  ? " 

I  knew  it  was  abominable  Spanish,  but  he  un- 
derstood and  answered  at  once  : — 

"  Si,  senor,  fui  imo  de  los  primeros  discipulos 
del  Instituto ;  recibi  mi  diploma  y  soy  ahora  asis- 
tente  profesor  del  Reverendo  Lamb." 

For  the  life  of  me  I  could  not  catch  his  mean- 


4  JESUS   DELANEY 

ing.  It  was  aggravating.  "Confound  it,"  said  I 
in  an  undertone,  "  why  can't  such  an  intelligent- 
looking  young  fellow  talk  like  a  Christian  ?  " 

"  Would  you  rather  I  spoke  English,  sir  ? " 
came  the  smiling  query  of  the  Mexican,  without 
the  slightest  trace  of  a  foreign  accent. 

"  Oh  !    You  are  an  American,"  I  exclaimed. 

"  No,  sir ;  I  am  a  Mexican." 

I  recalled  the  warning  a  Pullman  conductor  had 
given  me  on  the  way  down,  "  Beware  of  a  Mexi- 
can who  talks  English,  or  a  negro  who  talks 
Spanish ;  "  so  I  took  a  sharp  look  at  this  English- 
speaking  Mexican. 

He  had  a  good  face,  just  enough  bronzing  of 
the  olive  to  suggest  the  native  cross  with  the 
Spaniard,  nose  slightly  aquiline,  an  amiable  mouth, 
a  strong,  shapely  chin,  and  large  brown-black  eyes. 
He  had  the  straight  hair  of  the  Indian  and  his 
pose  and  figure  somehow  brought  to  my  mind 
Cooper's  description  of  the  Delaware  Chief  —  this 
in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  was  dressed  in  plain 
black  clothes  of  a  clerical  cut. 

"  Are  you  connected  with  the  Mission  Institute  ?  " 
I  asked. 

"Yes,"  he  replied;  "  I  was  one  of  the  first  grad- 
uates and  am  now  acting  as  Brother  Lamb's  assist- 
ant. He  told  me  you  had  promised  him  a  very 


JESUS   DELANEY  5 

interesting  book  and  he  wished  you  to  send  it  to 
him  by  me." 

"  Ah  !    Yes  !    Send  it  by  you  !  " 

I  reread  the  note  and  light  began  to  break. 

"  By  the  way,  may  I  inquire  your  name  ?  " 

"Jesus  Delaney."1 

"  JESUS ! " 

I  must  have  surprised  the  young  man  by 
laughing  aloud  and  shaking  him  cordially  by  the 
hand. 

"  My  name  sounds  strangely  to  American  ears," 
he  remarked  good-naturedly. 

"  It  doesn't  sound  as  bad  as  it  looks,"  I  responded 
and,  showing  him  the  note,  he  at  once  understood 
and  joined  in  my  merriment. 

This  was  not  the  first  time  I  had  heard  of  Jesus 
Delaney.  He  had  been  mentioned  to  me  by  the 
Reverend  Lamb  as  the  ripest  fruit  of  his  harvest  — 
he  had  been  named  from  time  to  time  in  the  Mission 
Reports  as  one  from  whom  great  results  were  ex- 
pected, and  a  recent  paragraph  in  the  Clarion  told 
how  he  had  lately  come  back  to  Alameda  after 
five  years  at  a  Northern  college. 

I  was  indeed  pleased  to  meet  him.  Here  was 
living  proof  of  what  mission  work  could  accomplish. 

1  Jesus,  pronounced  Haysus,  accent  on  last  syllable,  is  a  common 
name  in  Mexico. 


6  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  The  Reverend  Lamb  has  spoken  to  me  of  you," 
said  I. 

"  The  Reverend  Lamb  has  also  told  me  of  you," 
he  replied,  "  and  how  much  you  have  done  for  our 
Institute." 

He  spoke  easily  and  with  an  unaffected  modesty 
and  dignity  of  manner. 

"  I  know,"  he  went  on,  "  it  is  to  you  and  others 
like  you  I  owe  what  I  am  "  (there  was  deepening 
earnestness  in  look  and  tone),  "  and  it  will  be  my 
life-work  to  prove  that  I  am  not  ungrateful  —  that 
your  benevolence  was  not  misplaced." 

His  voice  faltered  and  the  big  eyes  dimmed. 

"  I  believe  you,  my  boy,  I  believe  you,"  said  I, 
hastily.  "  So  you  like  your  work  ?  " 

As  if  the  fire  of  faith  were  suddenly  stirred,  his 
handsome  face  lit  up. 

"  Like  it  ?  I  love  it !  "  he  exclaimed.  "  My 
country  is  politically  free,  but  spiritually  enslaved. 
Surely,  if  it  were  God-like  to  rebel  against  Spain, 
it  is  now  the  patriot's  part  to  raise  the  standard  of 
revolt  against  Rome." 

Read  in  these  pages  the  young  man's  speech 
may  seem  theatrical  —  heard  from  his  lips  with  the 
accompaniment  of  flashing  eyes  and  impassioned 
gesture,  it  seemed  inspired.  If  Brown  could  only 
have  been  there  to  see  and  hear ! 


JESUS   DELANEY  7 

"  And  have  you  hopes  of  victory  ? "  I  asked. 

"  It  is  more  than  hope,  it  is  faith,"  he  answered. 
"  I  know  I  shall  live  to  see  my  race  redeemed." 

And  he  went  on  to  speak  of  the  changed  condi- 
tion of  Mexico,  the  political  stability,  the  liberal 
ascendancy,  how  her  people  were  awakening  from 
the  torpor  of  centuries.  "  Progress,"  he  concluded, 
"  is  in  the  air." 

Even  as  he  spoke,  I  saw  passing  an  ox-team 
dragging  an  ancient  two-wheel  cart,  the  poor  beasts 
yoked  by  the  horns  with  thongs  of  rawhide. 

"It  may  be  in  the  air,"  thought  I,  "but  cer- 
tainly—  "  he  divined  my  reflections. 

"  Yes,  but  look  beyond  at  that  locomotive  flying 
by  with  its  palace  cars,"  he  said,  his  splendid  eyes 
aglow.  "  There  goes  an  old-time  water  carrier,  his 
jars  hanging  from  his  shoulders,  but  mark  how  he 
stops  at  that  hydrant  to  fill  them.  Right  in  the 
path  of  the  lowliest  lives  modern  methods  are  mak- 
ing headway.  Tell  our  northern  friends  that  the 
Bible  has  reinforcements.  Steam  and  electricity 
are  missionaries." 

"  Protestant  missionaries  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Thoroughly  Protestant !  Every  incandescent 
flash,  every  whirr  of  wheels  and  screech  of  whistle, 
is  a  protest  against  Popery."  Which  sentiments 
were  dear  to  my  heart. 


8  JESUS  DELANEY 

"  There's  a  war-cry  !  "  he  remarked  jocularly,  as 
a  long  fierce  blast  from  some  factory  tore  through 
the  soft  chimes  of  the  great  cathedral. 

It  was  interesting  to  note  the  happy  intuition 
with  which  he  anticipated.  But  what  most  sur- 
prised and  delighted  me  was  his  odd  way  of  blend- 
ing unrelated  ideas,  his  quick  shifts  from  grave  to 
gay,  and  a  certain  playful  humor  that  bubbled  and 
sparkled  in  his  various  moods.  It  was  so  unlike 
anything  I  had  been  led  to  look  for  in  a  Mexican 
that  I  became  curious  about  his  pedigree. 

"  Something  in  your  manner  and  appearance, 
Mr.  Delaney  —  " 

"  Please  call  me  Jesus,"  he  interrupted.  "  I  can 
scarcely  recognize  myself  by  any  other  name." 

"  Something  in  your  manner  makes  me  ask  :  Are 
you  a  full-blooded  Mexican  ?  " 

"  It  is  as  hard  to  say  what  constitutes  a  full- 
blooded  Mexican  as  what  constitutes  a  full-blooded 
American,"  he  answered. 

Recalling  the  commingling  of  English,  French, 
Dutch,  and  German  in  myself,  I  had  to  bow 
assent. 

"  My  mother,"  he  continued,  "  traces  her  ances- 
try to  the  Aztec  Cacique  Ichichuatl,  who  wedded  a 
Spanish  maiden." 

"  And  your  father  ?  " 


JESUS   DELANEY  9 

"  My  father  never  went  farther  back  than  my 
grandfather,  Don  Patricio  Delaney." 

"  Don  Patricio  ?     A  Mexican  ? " 

"An  Irish-Mexican.  But  Don  Patricio  once 
told  my  mother  that  his  ancestors  were  Irish 
kings." 

Jesus  spoke  of  his  royal  origin,  Aztec  and  Hiber- 
nian, with  such  grave  conviction,  I  did  not  smile. 

He  was  full  of  the  traditional  glories  of  his  coun- 
try ere  the  coming  of  Cortes,  and  as  he  told  the 
stirring  legends,  one  could  almost  imagine  him 
with  flashing  spear  and  shield  of  gold  leading  some 
predatory  band  of  warriors.  But  he  was  charm- 
ing. Indeed,  when  he  rose  to  leave,  I  was  reluc- 
tant to  part  with  him.  And  that  evening,  when  the 
Reverend  Lamb  called  to  talk  over  the  affairs  of 
the  Institute,  I  seized  the  first  chance  to  change 
the  subject  so  that  he  might  tell  me  more  of  Jesus 
Delaney. 


CHAPTER   II 


THE  Reverend  Lamb  has  a  good  hearty  hate  of 
Rome.  He  says  he  inherited  it  from  ancestors 
who  fought  and  prayed  with  Cromwell.  If  so,  it 
has  lost  nothing  in  the  process  of  transmission. 
No  matter  what  the  topic,  he  is  sure  to  find  some 
opening  for  thrust  or  stroke  at  his  ancient  foe. 

While  telling  me  the  simple  story  of  Jesus  De- 
laney,  so  frequent  were  his  raids  into  the  enemy's 
territory,  I  found  it  hard  to  follow  him.  But  by 
sounding  repeated  recalls,  I  managed  before  mid- 
night to  get  a  fair  account  of  this  young  Mexican 
in  whom  I  have  become  greatly  interested. 

Jesus  Delaney  was  the  first  Mexican  boy  secured 
by  the  Mission  Institute ;  he  was  then  eight  years 
of  age.  The  letter  of  the  Reverend  Lamb  announc- 
ing the  fact  is  a  cherished  record  at  the  League 
Headquarters.  "  God  be  praised  !  "  he  wrote,  "  a 
boy  brand  has  been  snatched  from  the  maw  of  the 
scarlet  woman." 

10 


EVOLUTION   OF   A  MISSIONARY  n 

The  father  of  Jesus  had  died  leaving  widow  and 
son  without  means.  In  his  lifetime  they  had 
never  known  want,  —  for  while  Don  Miguel  (as  the 
father  was  called)  had  no  regular  profession  and 
seldom  steady  employment,  he  always  managed  to 
be  doing  something  somehow.  Once  he  obtained 
a  position  on  the  police  force,  and  when  the  news 
was  communicated  to  Don  Patricio  (paternal-grand- 
father of  Jesus)  the  aged  man  chuckled  in  his  odd 
Spanish  and  English  (both  of  which,  Reverend 
Lamb  says,  he  spoke  with  a  brogue) :  — 

"Bueno!  Bueno !  Stick  to  that,  Moike!  A 
cousin  of  mine  as  was  polisman  in  Nueva  York 
para  dos  anos  is  ahora  un  gran  caballero." 

But  Don  Miguel  did  not  heed  his  father.  He 
chafed  under  the  discipline  prescribed  by  the 
Ayuntamiento,  and  finally  lost  his  place  through 
a  fierce  assault  with  his  club  on  the  pate  of  the 
Jefe  Politico,  Don  Esteban  Jos6  Maria  Vicario. 
For  a  time  before  his  death  he  held  the  office  of 
Alcalde,  drawing  a  good  salary,  but  as  was  always 
the  case,  lived  beyond  his  income,  while  his  wife, 
Dona  Concepcion  Morel  de  Delaney,  supple- 
mented his  extravagance  with  her  own  improvi- 
dence. 

She  was  a  well-bred  woman,  daughter  of  Colonel 
Villareal,  a  patriot  soldier,  and  never  knew  the 


12  JESUS   DELANEY 

need  of  money  before  marriage,  nor  the  use  of 
it  afterward.  Still  it  was  the  proud  boast  of 
Don  Miguel  that  he  had  the  handsomest  wife  and 
boy  in  Alameda. 

His  death  was  deeply  deplored  by  countless 
friends  and  creditors ;  vehicles  had  to  be  hired 
from  adjoining  towns  to  supply  the  demand  for 
his  funeral,  which  it  is  well  known  was  only  ex- 
ceeded in  length,  pomp,  and  circumstance  by  that 
of  the  deceased  Don  Patricio. 

The  widow  made  some  effort  to  keep  up  appear- 
ances by  the  sale  or  pledge  at  the  monte  pio  of 
wearing  apparel  and  furniture.  But  this  resource 
was  soon  exhausted  and  she  had  to  seek  employ- 
ment. 

Jesus  was  in  the  way. 

Don  Pedro  Sanchez,  who  needed  a  governess 
for  his  children,  would  have  no  encumbrance  in 
the  shape  of  a  boy.  Dona  This  and  Dofla  That 
who  wanted  her  services  expressly  stipulated  she 
must  stay  at  their  respective  houses,  away  from 
her  son.  Alone,  many  a  door  was  open ;  with 
Jesus,  there  was  no  admittance. 

It  was  at  this  time  she  met  the  wife  of  Rev- 
erend Lamb,  who,  seeing  her  strait,  offered  to 
take  Jesus  and  make  him  an  educated  gentle- 
man. She  showed  the  mother  the  bright  rooms, 


EVOLUTION   OF  A  MISSIONARY  jj 

the  well-provided  table,  the  pretty  uniform,  and 
introduced  the  kindly  faced  ladies  who  were  her 
assistants. 

It  was  a  godsend  —  Jesus  went  to  the  Institute, 
and  soon  became  the  pet  of  all,  particularly  of 
Mrs.  Lamb.  With  him  went  Antonio,  an  old 
family  servant  who  had  been  his  nurse  and  com- 
panion from  birth. 

Every  Saturday  came  the  mother,  and  they 
spent  an  hour  together  —  an  hour  of  that  love 
which  of  all  love  is  holiest.  There  was  trouble 
at  first  from  her  visits,  as  she  frequently  smuggled 
to  the  boy  little  leaden  Madonnas,  pictures  of  saints, 
medals,  and  scapulars  that  were  justly  an  abomina- 
tion in  the  sight  of  the  Reverend  Lamb.  But  he 
managed  to  seize  and  confiscate  these  until  such 
time  as  Jesus  had  been  taught  better,  when, 
although  he  would  not  wound  his  mother's  feelings 
by  refusing  her  gifts,  he  gratified  his  teachers  by 
their  prompt  exposure  and  delivery. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen  he  had  completed  the 
Institute  curriculum,  and  was  transferred  to  the 
Evangelical  University  in  the  United  States,  where 
he  spent  five  years.  He  wrote  weekly  to  his 
mother,  and  to  Mrs.  Lamb  whom  he  loved  as  a 
mother,  monthly  to  the  Reverend  Lamb,  and 
also  frequent  letters  to  Antonio,  who  could  neither 


I4  JESUS   DELANEY 

read  nor  write,  yet  treasured  the  correspondence 
as  a  miser  his  gold. 

The  college  career  of  Jesus  was  fairly  satisfac- 
tory. He  earned  no  great  distinction  as  a  student, 
but  he  was  very  popular  with  his  fellows.  It  is 
admitted  that  he  was  more  devoted  to  the  gymna- 
sium than  to  his  books,  and  became  easily  first  in 
all  athletic  exercises.  An  intimacy  soon  developed 
between  him  and  the  Professor  of  Physical  Culture 
(who  had  been  at  one  time  a  famous  athlete),  and 
it  was  discovered  too  late  that  the  Professor  had 
taught  Jesus  the  ungodly  art  of  self-defence  —  in 
fact  trained  him  in  the  use  of  gloves  and  foils 
until  he  was  more  proficient  than  his  master. 

He  was  prone  to  fits  of  temper.  There  is  a 
dark  story  to  the  effect  that  one  day,  alone  with 
the  Reverend  Ichabod  Deusnap,  his  tutor  in 
Moral  Philosophy,  the  latter  reflected  on  the  vir- 
tue of  Mexican  women.  Jesus  sprang  up  with  a 
Spanish  oath,  drew  a  knife  on  the  terrified  tutor, 
and  forced  from  him  an  abject  apology.  But  the 
Reverend  Deusnap  denies  the  story  and  Jesus 
doesn't  admit  it 

On  the  other  hand,  he  was  honorably  mentioned 
by  the  local  humane  society,  for  the  brave  rescue 
of  a  helpless  chicken  from  a  savage  bulldog, 
although  an  anonymous  letter  to  the  Reverend 


EVOLUTION   OF   A   MISSIONARY  15 

Lamb  charged  that  the  chicken  was  subsequently 
entered  by  Jesus  at  a  cocking  main. 

Lassoing  Doctor  Twombley  was  his  most  serious 
escapade.  The  venerable  Doctor,  distinguished 
for  old-school  gallantry,  had  just  bidden  elaborate 
farewell  to  some  ladies  who  were  gathered  on  the 
front  porch,  and  was  hastening  gayly  along  the 
walk  when  a  coiled  clothes-line  came  circling 
down  upon  him,  fastened  his  arms  helplessly  and 
drew  him,  speechless  with  indignation,  to  a  sitting 
posture. 

The  closest  watch  and  strictest  orders  failed  to 
cure  him  of  a  habit  he  had  of  leaping  the  fence  of 
the  college  campus  into  Deacon  Oldney's  pasture 
and  cutting  up  all  sorts  of  risky  capers  with  the 
Deacon's  bull.  He  would  wave  a  red  handker- 
chief before  its  eyes  and  dodge  its  fierce  charges. 
He  was  known  even  to  seize  its  tail  until  the  furi- 
ous beast  whirled  to  a  standstill,  when  he  would 
vault  upon  its  back  and  romp  madly  round  the 
pasture. 

He  had  an  unaccountable  passion  for  tight  pan- 
taloons, large  buttons,  high  hats,  and  profuse  sil- 
ver ornaments.  Checked  and  suppressed,  and  at 
times  supposed  to  be  completely  conquered,  this 
passion  would  break  out  in  violent  form  when 
least  expected. 


16  JESUS   DELANEY 

But  all  in  all,  it  appeared  from  Reverend*  Lamb's 
account,  Jesus  did  well  at  the  University  and  left 
it  with  a  cultured  mind  and  a  heart  fervent  for  the 
faith.  The  Reverend  Lamb  pictured  as  an  affect- 
ing scene  the  occasion  of  his  graduation,  when 
the  aged  President,  before  presenting  his  diploma, 
related  to  the  assembled  multitude  the  touching 
story  of  his  life,  and  described  his  devoted  coun- 
try "writhing  in  the  ravenous  clutches  of  Rome." 

"  In  God's  name,"  said  the  President,  in  closing, 
"  I  now  send  forth  to  Mexico's  rescue,  glorious  as 
a  knight  of  old  and  clad  in  the  armored  panoply 
of  the  Gospel,  her  son  and  our  brother,  Jesus 
Delaney." 


CHAPTER   III 

THE    MISSION    INSTITUTE 

THE  day  following  my  meeting  with  Jesus  I 
made  my  first  visit  to  the  Mission  Institute.  It  is 
conveniently  situated  in  a  central  part  of  the  city. 
Buildings  and  grounds  cover  a  whole  square,  and 
before  the  main  structure  is  laid  out  a  little  park 
with  great  trees,  tropical  plants,  winding  walks, 
and  beautiful  flower  beds.  Entering  this  park 
from  the  street,  I  made  my  way  to  the  main  door, 
where  an  aged  Mexican  servant  sat  on  the  porch, 
absorbed  in  a  large  volume  which  lay  upon  his 
knees.  He  looked  up  as  I  approached,  smiled 
amiably,  and  resumed  his  reading.  The  face  he 
disclosed  was  cruelly  disfigured  by  a  harelip  and 
a  deep  scar  on  the  right  cheek ;  yet  its  expression 
when  he  smiled  was  strangely  benign  and  child- 
like. The  book,  I  could  see,  was  a  Bible.  It  was  a 
most  gratifying  sight;  it  filled  my  mind  and  quick- 
ened my  heart.  That  dark  face  seemed  to  reflect 
the  sacred  light  of  truth ;  that  poor  benighted 
mind  was  illuminated. 

c  17 


!8  JESUS   DELANEY 

"Who,"  thought  I,  "can  measure  the  worth  of 
this  one  soul  redeemed  ?  What  cost  in  sordid 
gold  —  " 

"  You  are  welcome  to  the  Institute,"  said  a 
soft,  pleasant  voice,  and  Jesus  came  forward  with 
extended  hand.  I  pointed  to  the  aged  Mexican, 
still  bent  over  his  Bible. 

"There,"  said  I,  "there  is  the  most  touching 
thing  I  have  witnessed  since  coming  to  Mexico, 
that  old  man  reading  his  Bible." 

Jesus  surprised  me  by  a  merry  laugh. 

"  That !  Why,  that's  Antonio.  He  isn't  reading; 
he  can't  read.  He's  just  looking  at  the  pictures." 

"Antonio!"  He  addressed  the  old  man  in 
Spanish,  at  the  same  time  examining  the  volume 
over  his  shoulder. 

"  Que  estas  mirando  ?  " 

Antonio  laughed  a  low,  gleeful  laugh  without 
looking  up  and  answered  :  — 

"  El  soldado  tiene  al  nino  por  los  pies  y  lo  va  a 
cortar  en  dos.  Esta  gritando  y  pataleando  y  la 
madre  tambien  grita." 

"  It  is  the  picture  of  Solomon  deciding  which  is 
the  mother  of  the  child,"  explained  Jesus.  "Anto- 
nio enjoys  the  sight  of  the  soldier  holding  the 
child  up  by  the  heels  as  if  about  to  cut  it  in  two. 
You  see  —  " 


THE   MISSION    INSTITUTE  iy 

"Is  Brother  Lamb  in?"  I  interrupted.  The 
truth  when  it  spoils  a  nice  illusion  is  trying  to 
one's  temper. 

Brother  Lamb  was  very  cordial.  In  fact  he 
made  a  little  speech  as  he  pressed  both  my  hands. 

"  It  gives  me  pleasure,"  said  he,  "  to  welcome  to 
the  Institute  one  whom  I  know  to  be  interested  in 
its  work,  and  to  have  contributed  so  generously  to 
its  advancement." 

He  took  me  through  the  dormitories,  dining 
rooms,  kitchen,  classrooms,  and  chapel,  showed 
me  the  beautiful  patio  which  the  building  enclosed, 
and  lastly  the  quarters  reserved  for  himself  and 
family. 

Brown  might  have  looked  askance  at  the  com- 
forts and  even  elegancies  of  the  latter  —  the  rugs 
and  furnishings  were  luxurious,  the  curtained  beds 
restful,  and  servants  in  waiting  at  every  step  ;  but 
such  evidences  of  good  living  pleased  me.  Of 
course  I  could  not  help  contrasting  it  all  with  the 
stinted  little  cottage  which  the  Reverend  Lamb 
occupied  when  pastor  at  Zionville,  where  I  first 
knew  him,  and  where  he  had  a  flock  notoriously 
tenacious  of  its  fleece.  But  so  much  the  better  for 
the  Reverend  Lamb.  Missionaries,  like  other  men, 
are  capable  of  better  work  the  better  they  are 
housed  and  cared  for.  The  man  of  Galilee  ?  Well, 


20  JESUS   DELANEY 

that  was  eighteen  centuries  ago,  and  Galilee  isn't 
Mexico  (though  said  to  look  like  it). 

Most  interesting  of  all  to  me  were  the  children, 
fully  a  hundred,  some  bright  and  intelligent,  others 
not  so  promising ;  in  age,  from  infancy  to  young- 
womanhood  ;  in  color,  from  chocolate  to  cream. 
It  did  my  heart  good  to  look  at  them  and  think  of 
the  change  being  wrought  in  their  young  lives,  and 
how  in  every  land  throughout  the  world,  holy  men 
like  the  Reverend  Lamb  were  thus  spreading  the 
Gospel. 

"This  was  formerly  a  nunnery,"  said  Reverend 
Lamb.  "  Where  now  you  see  these  happy  maidens 
gathered  in  the  glow  of  evangelical  Truth,  poor 
blinded  women  were  once  shut  up,  their  souls  con- 
gealed in  superstitious  darkness." 

The  good  man's  face  beamed  with  honest 
pride  —  here  was  the  fruition  of  his  years  of 
labor. 

We  were  standing  in  the  main  hallway  looking 
at  the  patio  into  which  the  children  were  just 
marching  arm  in  arm,  keeping  step  to  the  music  of 
an  organ,  their  faces  wreathed  in  smiles  and  their 
black  eyes  sparkling.  They  circled  round  the  play- 
ing fountain,  and  as  the  first  couple  passed  us  the 
fresh  young  voices  were  raised  in  a  tuneful  Mexi- 
can hymn.  It  was  indeed  a  pretty  sight.  I 


THE  MISSION  INSTITUTE  21 

watched  till  the  last  child  disappeared  from  view 
and  strove  to  hold  the  last  sweet  echo  of  their 
song. 

"  You  must  love  this  work,"  said  I. 

"  It  is  God's  work,"  he  answered.  "  Every  one 
of  these  .children  is  a  brand  snatched  from  the 
burning,  a  soul  saved  from  the  blighting  claws 
of  Rome,  a  future  worker  in  the  Lord's  vine- 
yard." 

"  And  your  wife  ?  Does  not  the  exile  wear  on 
her  ? " 

"  Wear  upon  her !  Here  she  comes  with  our 
boy.  Does  she  look  worn  ?  " 

The  lady  approaching  was  the  last  person  in  the 
world  I  would  have  taken  for  the  wife  of  the  Rever- 
end Lamb.  I  knew,  of  course,  that  Mrs.  Lamb  was 
regularly  enrolled  as  a  missionary,  but  no  mention 
being  made  of  her  in  the  reports  (indeed  you  only 
came  across  her  name  on  the  quarterly  pay-rolls) 
I  supposed  her  to  be  a  quiet  homebody  devoted  to 
domestic  rather  than  missionary  duties. 

Here,  however,  was  a  distinguished-looking 
woman.  Very  tall,  she  had  the  graceful  carriage 
that  only  goes  with  perfect  physical  proportions, 
and  her  snow-white  hair  heightened  the  almost 
youthful  beauty  of  her  face  —  a  face  noble  and  in- 
tellectual in  its  every  line.  There  could  be  no  mis- 


22  JESUS   DELANEY 

taking  her  sympathetic  nature  —  expression,  voice, 
manner,  breathed  the  same  sweet  harmony.  No 
note  of  self  — her  very  presence  encompassed  you 
with  considerate  kindliness. 

The  Reverend  Lamb  rallied  her  on  my  remark 
about  exile. 

"  When  I  first  came  here,  I  was  too  busy  to  be 
homesick  ;  "  said  she,  smiling,  "  there  were  - 

"  Souls  all  about  to  be  saved,"  interposed  the 
Reverend  Lamb. 

"  Bodies  all  about  to  be  fed  and  cleaned  and  clad," 
she  continued,  and  her  large,  velvety  black  eyes 
gave  the  glow  of  a  soul  consecrate  to  Charity. 

She  had  a  soft,  soothing  voice,  such  a  voice  as 
lulls  a  child  or  lures  a  man.  I  loved  to  listen 
to  it. 

"  I  have  lived  here  so  long  now,  Alameda  is  my 
home,  her  people  my  people,  and  their  uplifting 
my  life-work." 

"  But  this  little  boy  of  yours  ?  In  a  few  years 
more  he  must  have  other  advantages  and  associa- 
tions than  you  can  afford  him  here.  You  would 
not  sacrifice  his  future  to  the  mission  cause  ? " 

She  stroked  the  lad's  glossy  hair  a  moment  as 
if  in  deep  thought,  but  before  she  could  reply  the 
Reverend  Lamb  again  answered,  "  Yes  !  Should 
the  Lord  so  demand,  even  our  beloved  child,"  and 


THE   MISSION   INSTITUTE  23 

his  eyes  were  raised  and  his  lips  moved  in  silent 
prayer. 

Into  the  narrow  groove  in  which  my  life  had 
run  so  many  years  there  flashed  that  sentiment 
sublime !  I  praised  God  that  men  were  still  on 
earth  like  the  Reverend  Lamb. 


CHAPTER   IV 

THE   MISSION   TEA 

I  HAD  tea  with  the  faculty,  consisting  of  the 
Reverend  and  Mrs.  Lamb,  Jesus  and  four  ladies. 
Three  of  the  latter,  whose  names  I  did  not  catch, 
but  whom  I  distinguished  in  the  order  of  their 
introduction  as  Nos.  i,  2,  and  3,  were  very  young. 
Had  they  dressed  for  a  ball  instead  of  a  plain  mis- 
sion tea,  their  costumes  would  not  have  been  much 
more  elaborate  ;  what  with  ribbons,  lace,  frills,  and 
frippery,  it  was  hard  to  believe  them  missionaries. 
Reverend  Lamb  must  have  noticed  my  surprise, 
for  he  made  a  whispered  explanation  :  — 

"We  have  so  few  visitors.  The  young  ladies 
regard  this  as  quite  an  occasion." 

So  it  was  done  on  my  account,  if  overdone,  and 
besides  (I  bethought  me),  dress  goods  are  cheap  in 
Mexico,  and  —  well,  women  are  women  the  world 
over.  I  greeted  the  girls  kindly. 

"  It  was  brave  in  ladies  so  young  as  you  to  leave 
home  and  friends,  and  come  to  this  foreign  land." 

They  seemed  unduly  affected. 
24 


THE   MISSION  TEA  2$ 

"  Do  people  really  talk  of  us  ? "  asked  one. 

"  People  everywhere  admire  the  courage  and 
zeal  of  our  noble  women  missionaries,"  I  re- 
sponded gallantly. 

"  Oh  my  !  "  came  in  a  self-conscious  chorus,  and 
the  way  they  blushed  and  beamed  showed  they 
could  take  more.  I  could  not  help  thinking  how 
much  better  fitted  they  would  be  for  mission  work 
in  Mexico,  had  they  some  slight  share  of  that  easy 
courtesy,  that  graciousness  and  self-possession  of 
manner  so  common  in  the  humblest  classes  of 
Alameda. 

"  Do  you  enjoy  life  here  ? "  I  inquired. 

"  Not  so  much  as  at  first,"  said  No.  I. 

"  The  novelty  wears  off,"  said  No.  2. 

"  But  we  have  lots  of  fun  yet,"  said  No.  3. 

These  replies  jarred  on  me  and  must  have  been 
displeasing  to  the  Reverend  Lamb,  for  he  abruptly 
drew  me  aside  to  introduce  the  fourth  lady,  a  Miss 
Anderson. 

"A  wonderful  woman,"  he  had  previously  re- 
marked. "  Devoted  to  the  mission  cause,  and  — 
rich." 

The  last  quality,  her  wealth,  was  mentioned  with 
a  lowering  of  voice  and  brows  that  was  impressive 
and  peculiar. 

Miss  Anderson  had  ceased  to  be  young.     She 


26  JESUS   DELANEY 

had  a  strong  face,  keen  eyes,  and  the  deep  lines 
and  leathery  color  which  tell  of  prolonged  service 
in  the  schoolroom.  But  the  remarkable  thing 
about  her  was  her  voice,  deep  and  clear ;  coming 
from  a  woman  of  only  moderate  size,  it  startled  me 
when  she  spoke.  She  seemed  the  monitor  of  the 
faculty,  alert  for  every  lapse. 

During  the  meal,  the  Reverend  Lamb  com- 
mented on  Mexican  mythology. 

"  The  ancient  God  of  the  Mexicans  was  Hetzal- 
coatl,"  he  remarked. 

"  Quetzalcoatl,"  corrected  Miss  Anderson. 

"  Ah  !  Yes  !  Quetzalcoatl  —  of  course,  Quetzal- 
coatl," said  the  Reverend  Lamb. 

"  Now,  they  worship  the  Virgin  Mary,"  said 
No.  i. 

"  The  Virgin  of  Guadalupe,"  from  Miss  Ander- 
son. 

"  I  mean  the  Virgin  of  Guadalupe,"  mildly 
assented  No.  i. 

"Just  a  change  of  idols,"  simpered  No.  2. 

"  I  really  prefer  the  old  idol  to  the  Madonna," 
giggled  No.  3. 

"Your  idol  would  naturally  be  a  man,"  said 
Jesus,  whereupon  Nos.  i,  2,  and  3  became 
hysterical. 

"  If  we  must  have  idols,"  said  I,  good  humoredly. 


THE   MISSION   TEA  2? 

"  Must  have  idols ! "  repeated  with  reproving 
voice,  Miss  Anderson. 

"  Ah !  I  mean  as  between  idols,  I  prefer  to 
worship  the  beauty,  sweetness,  and  sanctity  of 
woman." 

"Worship!"  Miss  Anderson's  powerful  pro- 
nunciation was  a  protest  which  drove  me  into  an 
immediate,  although  confused,  apology.  From  that 
on  I  was  on  my  guard. 

"  The  ancient  Aztecs  had  a  female  idol  —  Ton- 
teotl,"  said  Reverend  Lamb. 

"  Centeotl,"  corrected  Miss  Anderson. 

Reverend  Lamb  meekly  concurred. 

"  In  their  legend  of  the  creation,"  he  continued, 
"they  have  it  that  God  first  made  man  out  of 
straw  —  " 

"  Wood !  "  said  Miss  Anderson. 

"Ah!  —  Yes!  out  of  wood."  The  Reverend 
Lamb  never  disputed  her  amendments. 

"  Does  this  legend  account  for  the  number  of 
wooden  men  ? "  I  inquired.  My  sally  was  taken 
seriously  by  Nos.  I,  2,  and  3,  who  looked  puzzled, 
as  if  the  question  were  put  to  them. 

"  Possibly  the  number  of  wooden  men  accounts 
for  the  legend,"  said  Jesus. 

I  observed  that  Miss  Anderson  never  corrected 
Jesus.  On  the  contrary,  she  seemed  to  esteem  his 


28  JESUS  DELANEY 

levity  beyond  its  merits.  But  she  spared  no  one 
else.  Her  memory  was  amazing,  ranging  over 
the  whole  field  of  conversation  with  the  quick 
eye  and  sharp  talons  of  a  hawk.  Once  I  ven- 
tured a  personal  experience  which  occurred  during 
the  Rebellion,  and  a  little  harmless  misstatement 
was  descried  by  her  and  pounced  upon. 

"  Why,  my  dear  lady,"  said  I,  expostulating,  "  all 
that  was  thirty  years  ago." 

"  Thirty-two  years  ago,"  she  replied  stiffly. 

And  she  was  right. 

Mrs.  Lamb  presided  graciously  at  the  table,  but 
thus  far  took  no  part  in  the  conversation.  Seated 
on  her  right,  I  expected  that  later  on  we  would 
have  a  social  chat  together.  But  just  at  this,  my 
second  miscue  with  Miss  Anderson,  a  mozo  came 
into  the  drawing-room  and  spoke  in  Spanish  to 
the  Reverend  Lamb,  who  seemed  quite  irritated. 
"That  miserable  Dofia  Garda,"  he  said  aloud  to 
Mrs.  Lamb,  "is  at  the  gate  again." 

Then  in  a  different  tone  to  me,  "  It's  a  woman 
whose  boy  we  have  taken  and  who  now  looks  to 
us  to  support  her  and  her  whole  family."  On  the 
sweet  face  of  Mrs.  Lamb  there  came  a  look  of 
tenderest  sympathy. 

"  I  know  you  will  excuse  me,"  she  said  to  me 
with  winning  dignity,  "  Dofta  Garda  is  one  of  my 


THE    MISSION   TEA 


29 


wards,"  and  she  followed  the  mozo  from  the 
room. 

The  Reverend  Lamb  looked  vexed,  and  his 
vexation  showed  on  all  the  rest  except  Jesus,  who 
with  obvious  deference  and  affection,  rose  as  Mrs. 
Lamb  did,  held  the  door  open  for  her  exit,  and 
then  resumed  his  seat. 

The  talk  zigzagged  ;  — whatever  course  it  took 
was  checked  by  some  accuracy  of  Miss  Anderson, 
and  another  turn  soon  met  the  same  fate,  but  it 
wriggled  on  somehow. 

There  was  one  topic,  however,  on  which  the 
whole  faculty,  including  Miss  Anderson,  seemed 
to  be  in  thorough  accord  —  Rome.  As  a  reader  of 
the  Clarion  I  was,  of  course,  familiar  with  Romish 
wickedness.  Besides,  I  had  once  listened  to  an 
exposure  of  priestcraft  by  an  ex-priest ;  the  fact 
that  the  fellow  was  subsequently  sent  to  the  peni- 
tentiary for  a  gross  crime  gave  color  to  the  tales  he 
told  of  his  clerical  career.  But  what  the  Reverend 
Lamb  revealed  at  table  that  night  was,  neverthe- 
less, most  shocking. 

"  Every  Mexican  bandit,"  he  said,  "  is  regularly 
licensed  by  Rome  to  rob  and  murder,  and,  sir,  the 
spoils  of  their  crimes  are  duly  divided  with  the 
clergy." 

"  Good  God  !  "  I  exclaimed,  "  have  you  proof  of 
this  ? " 


3O  JESUS  DELANEY 

"I  have  the  testimony  of  one  who  as  a  priest 
participated  in  the  abominable  business." 

"  Did  the  scoundrel  turn  state's  evidence  ? " 

"  No,  he  turned  Protestant.  I  myself  helped  to 
remove  the  scales  from  his  eyes." 

"  I  trust  you  left  the  ball  and  chain  on  his  legs." 

"  No.  The  reform  of  Brother  Baez  is  complete. 
He  is  now  earnestly  cooperating  in  our  cause." 

I  could  feel  no  enthusiasm  over  this  accession. 

"And  what,"  I  asked,  "is  the  attitude  of  the 
civil  authorities  toward  such  infamy?" 

"  Civil  authorities  !"  Reverend  Lamb  sneered. 
"  Why,  sir,  one  of  the  most  prominent  men  in 
Mexico  is  married  to  his  own  sister.  Brother  Baez 
knows  him." 

"  His  sister !  "  I  exclaimed.  "  How  was  such  a 
thing  permitted  ? " 

"He  paid  the  Pope  $20,000  for  the  privi- 
lege," responded  the  Reverend  Lamb,  solemnly. 
"  Brother  Baez  told  me  so." 

"  Every  priest  has  a  concubine,"  he  went  on. 
"  Why,  sir,  some  of  the  pupils  at  this  Institute, 
Brother  Baez  says,  are  the  illegitimate  offspring  of 
priests." 

"Two  members  of  my  class  admitted  as  much 
to  me,"  said  Miss  Anderson,  severely. 

"  I  have  facts,"  said  the  Reverend  Lamb,  im- 


THE   MISSION   TEA  3! 

pressively.  "  Facts  of  my  own  knowledge  ;  facts 
from  sources  absolutely  unimpeachable  (I  regard 
Brother  Baez  as  unimpeachable);  facts  which,  if 
known  as  I  know  them,  would  cause  all  Protes- 
tant Christendom  —  "  he  paused  as  if  contemplat- 
ing a  sublime  uprising,  then  closed  with  that 
peculiar  lowering  of  his  voice  and  brows  —  "to 
contribute  to  our  Mission  Fund." 
I  drew  my  check  that  night 


CHAPTER  V 

SEEN   FROM   THE   ROOF 

AFTER  supper,  the  Reverend  Lamb  and  myself 
repaired  to  the  roof,  where  we  sat  and  smoked, 
looking  down  on  the  quaint  white  Mexican  city 
made  glorious  by  the  southern  moon. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  Jesus  ? "  asked  my  host. 

"  He  is  a  most  agreeable  young  man.  But  he 
seems  to  me  almost  too  bright  for  a  minister  —  ah  ! 
—  I  mean  to  say  too  versatile  for  a  missionary." 

"  The  very  quality  which  will  make  him  succeed," 
answered  the  Reverend  Lamb,  and  he  went  on  to 
explain  how. 

"  Has  he  accomplished  any  mission  work  as 
yet  ? "  I  asked. 

"Indeed  he  has,  —  glorious  work.  His  mother, 
whose  conversion  I  sought  for  years,  has  at  last 
yielded  to  his  efforts.  A  week  ago  she  was  for- 
mally received  into  our  blessed  communion.  We 
expect  much  from  her,  for,  although  poor,  she 
comes  of  good  family." 

"And  are  you  sure  he  will  make  this  his  life- 
work?" 

32 


SEEN   FROM  THE   ROOF 


33 


"  Not  a  doubt  of  it !  Not  a  doubt  of  it !  The 
seed  planted  in  his  soul  by  myself  has  flowered 
and  fructified.  He  is  to-day  as  ardent  in  the 
faith  —  " 

"  Yes,  ardent  and  all  that,  but  he  is  very  young. 
Some  ambition  may  seize  him  —  " 

"  He  has  an  ambition  —  a  sublime  ambition  —  to 
save  his  country  from  the  degradation  of  idolatry. 
We  created  that  ambition." 

"  But  supposing  he  falls  in  love.  A  young 
fellow  like  that  won't  stay  heart-whole.  Whoever 
wins  his  love  may  rule  his  ambition.  You  cannot 
create  his  love  —  " 

"  Can't  we  ?  "  The  eyes  of  the  Reverend  Lamb 
twinkled,  and  a  sly  humor  relaxed  his  drawn  fea- 
tures. "  Don't  be  too  sure  that  we  can't.  Look 
there  "  —  and  he  pointed  down  into  the  park. 

I  looked  and  saw  sitting  on  a  bench  side  by  side, 
Jesus  and  Miss  Anderson.  • 

Doubtless  they  deemed  themselves  unobserved 
—  deep  shadow  obscured  them  from  the  level,  but 
to  the  mischievous  moon  and  ourselves  they  were 
plainly  visible. 

Miss  Anderson  seemed  to  be  intently  studying 
the  young  man's  face,  while  he  sat  with  closed 
eyes,  silent  and  motionless.  Once  she  cautiously 
touched  his  hair  with  her  forefinger,  and  after  a 


34  JESUS   DELANEY 

few  such  timid  touches  made  bold  to  press  it  down 
as  if  wondering  at  the  way  it  would  straighten  and 
stand.  Again,  I  was  amazed  to  see  she  placed 
her  fingers  on  his  pear-shaped  chin  and  began  to 
stroke  it  lovingly.  His  eyes  snapped  open.  He 
glared  upon  her  fierce  as  an  animal,  and  clutched 
her  in  his  arms.  I  turned  to  my  companion.  He 
had  hastily  left  my  side  and  I  could  just  see  him 
disappearing  as  he  descended  from  the  roof. 
***** 

"They  are  virtually  engaged,"  said  the  Rever- 
end Lamb,  apologetically,  when  he  rejoined  me. 

"  Engaged ! " 

"  Not  formally,  you  know,  but  we  all  under- 
stand it's  a  match." 

"  Why,  she  is  old  enough  to  be  his  —  " 

"  Anchor,"  said  the  Reverend  Lamb.  "  She 
will  hold  him  to  the  Rock  of  Faith  —  keep  him 
moored  and  safe.  His  marriage  to  her  will  fasten 
him  forever  to  mission  work." 

Anchored,  held,  moored,  and  fastened  forever 
—  the  words  grated.  Yet  it  was  no  concern  of 
mine.  So  I  said  nothing,  but  the  Reverend  Lamb 
seemed  to  think  something  more  ought  to  be  said. 

"A  man  of  twenty-one,"  he  continued,  "with 
Spanish,  Indian,  and  Irish  blood  — 

"  Hot  stuff !  "  I  muttered. 


SEEN   FROM   THE   ROOF 


35 


"  What  did  you  remark  ?  " 

"  Not  a  Platonic  mixture." 

"Yet,"  said  the  Reverend  Lamb,  "he  is  not  as 
ardent  a  lover  as  you  might  imagine." 

"  Possibly  he  is  not  ardently  in  love." 

"  Not  in  love  ?  After  the  scene  we  have  just 
witnessed,  can  you  doubt  it  ?  " 

"  Well,  that  is  by  no  means  conclusive.  One 
who  gets  heated  by  a  stove,  has  not  necessarily  a 
fever  ;  one  who  sneezes  from  snuff,  has  not  neces- 
sarily a  cold." 

"  I  don't  quite  understand,"  said  the  Reverend 
Lamb,  coughing. 

"  No !  Well,  you  and  I  are  old  enough  to  be 
rational  in  such  things,  but,  nevertheless,  seat 
either  of  us  with  a  woman,  in  an  arbor,  under  a 
tropical  moon,  and  let  her  go  pawing  and  pat- 
ting—" 

I  was  really  glad  of  the  interruption  which  oc- 
curred at  this  point,  for  I  could  see  that  the  train 
of  my  reflections  was  carrying  me  into  a  region 
where  the  Reverend  Lamb  might  not  care  to  ac- 
company me. 

Fortunately  there  was  a  sudden  scurrying  on 
the  ladder  by  which  we  had  ascended,  and  up 
darted  a  strange-looking  bird  with  but  one  wing, 
pursued  by  a  cat  that  had  but  three  legs,  and 


36  JESUS  DELANEY 

» 

closely  followed  by  an  old  man  of  dwarfed  stature, 
whom  I  recognized  by  his  scarred  face  and  good- 
natured  grin  as  the  Bible  Reader.  Round  the 
roof  ran  the  bird  and  cat  at  remarkable  speed  con- 
sidering their  respective  disabilities,  while  after 
them,  at  a  pace  wonderful  for  his  age,  speeded 
Antonio,  who  shouted  as  he  went :  — 

"  Zape,  gato  maldito,  no  molestas  al  pajaro ! 
Zape,  gato  malo  !  " 

Intent  on  his  chase,  he  failed  to  see  his  master 
and  myself  and  when  at  last  bird  and  cat  went  in 
a  wild  whirl  under  our  chairs,  Antonio  fell  head- 
long over  us. 

To  me  the  incident  was  amusing,  and  I  laughed 
heartily.  But  the  Reverend  Lamb  was  greatly  in- 
censed. He  rose  to  his  feet  with  a  remark  in 
Spanish  which,  while  it  may  have  been  proper 
enough,  sounded  suspiciously  like  an  oath,  and  he 
berated  the  offending  mozo,  who  stood  abject  and 
penitent  before  us,  holding  safely  in  his  arms, 
however,  the  captured  bird  and  cat. 

"  Vayase ! "  concluded  the  Reverend  Lamb. 
"  Vayase,  loco,  y  que  no  vuelva  a  repetir  semejante 
conducta.  Vayase ! " 

Antonio  made  a  bow,  humble  and  contrite,  and 
slunk  away,  talking  alternately  to  his  pets. 

"  I  wouldn't  let  any  of  the  rest  off  so  easy," 


SEEN   FROM   THE   ROOF  37 

said  Reverend  Lamb,  "  but  Antonio  is  a  privileged 
character." 

"  Is  he  a  brand  snatched  from  the  burning  ? " 
I  asked. 

"  Well,  hardly.    He  blazes  every  chance  he  gets." 

This  seemed  so  apt  a  repartee  that  it  restored 
the  Reverend  Lamb's  good  humor,  and  he  re- 
peated it  twice,  "  He  blazes  every  chance  he  gets. 
Antonio  works  faithfully  all  week,  but  observes 
the  Sabbath  by  getting  drunk  and  arrested." 

"  Every  Sabbath  ? " 

"  Every  Sabbath.  He  is  as  conscientiously  strict 
in  his  way  of  observing  the  day  as  we  are  in  ours." 

"  How  does  Mrs.  Lamb  tolerate  him  ? " 

"  Mrs.  Lamb,  like  all  the  rest  of  us,  is  greatly 
attached  to  him.  If  I  didn't  go  down  to  the  jail 
every  Monday  morning,  pay  his  fine  and  take  him 
home,  she  would  go  herself." 

"  But  the  example,  the  scandal  of  it." 

Reverend  Lamb  shrugged  his  shoulders.  "This 
is  Mexico.  However  it  might  be  regarded  else- 
where, nobody  here  gives  it  a  thought.  It  is  the 
almost  universal  custom  of  men  of  Antonio's  class 
to  celebrate  as  he  does.  His  distinction  is  his 
absolute  reliability.  Faithful,  competent,  obliging, 
affectionate  all  week,  drunk  on  Sunday." 

"  Have  you  tried  to  reform  him  ? " 


38  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  In  every  way  possible,  even  restraining  him 
of  his  liberty  and  refusing  to  let  him  out  of  the 
yard.  But  to  no  avail.  I  found  his  Sunday  spree 
a  sanitary  measure,  for  he  got  sick  and  useless 
when  he  was  stopped.  We  were  glad  to  restore 
him  to  the  regular  routine  again." 

"  Has  he  any  religion  ? " 

"He  is  no  papist.  He  has  abandoned  every 
popish  practice." 

"  Well,  we  must  not  expect  too  much  in  one  of 
his  origin,"  I  said. 

"  No  !  "  said  the  Reverend  Lamb.  "  If  I  could 
get  the  rest  of  them  as  far  on  the  road  to  grace  as 
Antonio  —  " 

"  As  far  as  Antonio  ? " 

"  Yes,  as  far  as  renouncing  Rome,  all  would  be 
well." 

"What!"  I  exclaimed,  "is  not  any  Christian 
creed  better  than  none  ? " 

"  Rome  has  no  Christian  creed.  Rome  is  anti- 
christ," he  answered.  And  for  fully  an  hour  he 
dwelt  on  this,  convincing  me  beyond  any  cavil 
that  all  the  ills  besetting  Mexico  emanated  from 
one  primary  evil.  He  only  paused  in  his  harangue 
that  we  might  listen  to  the  advanced  class  of  Mexi- 
can girls,  who  (led  by  Miss  Anderson)  were  sing- 
ing in  English  the  good  old  hymn,  "  I'm  so  glad 
that  Jesus  loves  me." 


CHAPTER  VI 
A  NIGHT'S  VIGIL 

OTHER  visits  to  the  Institute  heightened  my 
good  opinion  of  it.  Doubtless  the  Reverend  Lamb 
gave  to  the  place  its  spiritual  atmosphere.  He 
had  at  his  tongue's  end,  and  was  tireless  in  repeat- 
ing, the  most  edifying  scriptural  passages.  He 
was  zealous  in  propagating  the  true  faith,  and  had 
by  far  the  largest  number  of  names  to  his  credit 
on  the  roll  of  converts. 

Mrs.  Lamb  was  a  different  type.  She  never 
quoted  texts  or  expounded  tenets ;  hers  the  broad 
field  of  charity.  Besides  her  daily  duties  with  the 
little  ones,  all  of  whom  made  her  their  confidant 
and  loved  her  as  a  mother,  she  had  a  multitude 
whom  she  called  her  wards,  —  the  poor,  the  sick, 
the  lowliest  of  Alameda.  To  these  she  minis- 
tered, nor  spared  herself  in  season  or  out.  "I  try 
to  help,"  she  said,  "  I  do  not  try  to  proselyte." 
Yet  many  with  whom  she  worked  came  with  her 
to  pray;  not  that  they  knew  her  creed,  but  that 
they  knew  her  goodness.  Even  the  American  resi- 

39 


40  JESUS   DELANEY 

dents,  some  of  whom  —  invidious  fellows  —  talked 
slightingly  of  the  Reverend  Lamb,  making  covert 
allusions  to  covetousness,  one  and  all  had  words 
of  praise  for  Mrs.  Lamb.  Her  acts  of  charity  ! 
Her  constant  mission  of  mercy  !  Ay,  her  hero- 
ism !  For  during  the  fever  plague,  when  kindred 
fled  from  kindred,  she  went  upon  her  daily  course 
from  hut  to  hut,  to  rescue  and  relieve.  Why  has 
so  little  of  so  glorious  a  record  appeared  in  the 
Reports  or  in  the  pages  of  the  Clarion  ?  I  cannot 
answer. 

Gratifying  also  it  was  to  find  that  all  I  saw  and 
heard  about  the  Institute  confirmed  my  first  im- 
pressions of  Jesus  Delaney.  I  found  him  diligent 
and  earnest.  In  his  classroom  with  his  pupils  he 
appeared  particularly  well.  While  I  was  unable 
to  follow  closely  the  language  they  spoke,  there 
was  no  mistaking  their  mutual  love  and  interest. 
The  Reverend  Lamb  was  an  old  teacher,  capable 
and  zealous,  but  I  observed  that  the  little  ones 
who  yawned  or  fidgeted  under  his  tuition  bright- 
ened at  the  entry  of  Jesus,  and  maintained  an 
eager  attention.  Probably  the  secret  of  this  was 
the  young  man's  own  enjoyment  of  the  work.  It 
was  clearly  evident  that  he  put  his  heart  and  soul 
in  it.  Then  the  melody  of  his  voice,  the  charm 
of  his  manner,  his  sensitive  sympathy  with  every 


A  NIGHT'S  VIGIL  4I 

humor  of  the  child  —  to  all  these  the -little  sun- 
loved  Mexicans  naturally  responded. 

"  Now  you  know,"  said  the  Reverend  Lamb, 
"  what  I  meant  by  the  qualities  that  will  make  him 
signally  successful  as  a  missionary :  he  suits  the 
people.  He  has  all  the  good  traits  of  his  lineage, 
and  none  of  the  bad ;  for  the  bad,  thank  God,  I 
have  eradicated.  There  is  a  great  career  before 
him,  —  a  great  career." 

I  had  come  to  this  conclusion  myself.  So  had 
Miss  Anderson. 

"  He  will  be  to  Mexico,  spiritually,  what  Hidalgo 
was  politically,"  said  she. 

"Wasn't  Hidalgo  a  priest  ?  "  I  inquired. 

She  looked  at  me  as  if  indignant  at  my  mention- 
ing such  a  thing. 

"Wasn't  Washington  a  slaveholder?  Hasn't 
the  sun  spots  ? "  she  asked  in  her  deep  voice. 
"  Hidalgo  was  a  patriot,  sir."  She  left  the  room. 

"  Hers  is  no  common  earthly  passion  for  Jesus," 
explained  the  Reverend  Lamb.  "  It  is  rather  a 
pious  conviction  of  what  can  be  done  by  the  union 
of  his  great  talents  and  "  —  he  paused  before  clos- 
ing, with  his  peculiar  lowering  of  voice  and  brows 
—  "  her  money." 

In  that  light,  I  myself  was  becoming  reconciled 
to  it.  And  day  by  day  my  interest  in  the  lad  in- 


42  JESUS   DELANEY 

creased.  The  more  I  saw  of  him,  the  more  I 
liked  him,  and  gratitude  ripened  liking  into  love. 
It  happened  thus  :  — 

One  afternoon,  it  was  agreed  that  Jesus  should 
call  after  school  hours  the  next  day,  and  take  me 
for  a  drive  about  the  city ;  but  during  the  night  I 
was  taken  ill  with  sciatica,  a  disease  to  which  I  am 
subject,  and  when  he  came  I  was  still  in  bed,  suf- 
fering intensely.  Did  you  ever  have  sciatica? 
No  ?  But  you  have  had  toothache.  Well,  they 
are  akin.  Burns  speaks  of  the  latter  as  "  the  hell 
of  a'  diseases  "  —  proof  that  he  never  had  the  for- 
mer; for  if  he  did,  he  would  have  given  sciatica 
infernal  supremacy.  My  present  attack  was  un- 
expected. I  had  been  led  to  believe  that  no  such 
thing  could  occur  in  the  mild  climate  of  Mexico. 
Yet  here  it  was  in  as  violent  a  form  as  the  harsh- 
est winter  had  ever  provoked  at  home.  It  seemed 
as  if  an  evil  spirit  with  white-hot  pincers  pulled  at 
my  hip,  while  another  plied  his  nippers  at  my 
heel.  And  there  was  no  relief  for  me.  A  Mexi- 
can doctor  whom  the  proprietor  sent  was  an  aggra- 
vation rather  than  a  help  —  a  great,  greasy, 
bearded  fellow  with  pudgy  paws  and  heavy  sacks 
under  his  eyes.  I  put  him  down  at  once  as  a 
quack,  and  would  have  none  of  his  vile  drugs. 
How  often  during  the  long  night  and  longer 


A   NIGHT'S   VIGIL 


43 


day  I  wished  myself  back  among  friends  and 
neighbors,  or  anywhere  in  my  own  land  among 
white  folks !  Climate !  Give  me  the  good  four 
seasons,  and  the  men  and  women,  the  fruits  and 
cereals,  that  go  with  them  !  Climate  !  I  have  seen 
a  consumptive  friend  at  home  waste  rapidly  and 
die.  I  have  seen  another  living  and  coughing  in 
Mexico,  and  telling  between  coughs  how  many 
years  life  had  been  prolonged  by  the  change,  and 
I  have  thought  how  much  better  off  was  he  who 
slept  at  home  than  he  who  suffered  in  exile. 

It  was  when  my  pain  was  greatest,  and  I  had 
for  the  hundredth  time  become  enraged  at  the 
Mexican  who  attended  me,  and  who  was  grossly 
stupid  and  clumsy,  that  Jesus  softly  entered.  I 
did  not  know  then  that  part  of  his  missionary 
training  was  the  care  of  the  sick,  but  I  felt  at 
once  something  soothing  in  his  presence.  He 
didn't  irritate  with  comment  or  question.  He  was 
sympathetic  without  speech ;  tender,  strong.  The 
nourishing  drink  he  ordered  was  just  what  I 
craved,  and  then  his  deft  arrangement  of  pillows 
and  bedclothes !  But  sciatica  does  not  yield  to 
kindness  or  sympathy.  I  was  still  on  the  rack, 
and  groaned  at  every  tortuous  twist. 

"  Did  you  ever  try  massage  ? "  asked  Jesus, 
pityingly. 


44  JESUS  DELANEY 

"  Yes,"  I  gasped  ;  "  it's  a  humbug." 

"I  often  cure  Miss  Anderson's  headaches  in 
that  way." 

"Miss  Anderson's  headaches!  O  Lord!"  If 
I  were  not  so  near  crying,  I  could  have  laughed. 

But  an  unusual  wrench  made  me  fling  off  the 
cover  and  clutch  convulsively  at  my  hip. 

"  Do  let  me  try  and  help  you,"  he  pleaded,  and 
gently  laid  his  large  warm  palm  upon  my  thigh. 
I  felt  the  first  touch  a  vital  force.  It  thrilled  my 
whole  system.  There  was  a  peculiar  shrinking 
ecstasy.  Down  the  leg  from  hip  to  heel  went 
that  soft,  steady,  magnetic  pressure.  His  eyes 
looked  into  mine  with  eager  pity.  The  pain 
paused,  weakened.  Still  shone  in  mine  those 
earnest  eyes  and  still  that  pulseful  warmth  of 
pressing  palm  !  The  pain  vanished.  I  slept. 

When  I  awoke,  there  came  the  grateful  con- 
sciousness of  being  well.  I  opened  my  eyes  and 
he  was  sitting  beside  me,  the  same  intent  kindli- 
ness upon  his  handsome  face. 

"Why  have  you  not  gone  to  supper?"  I  asked. 

"  It  is  time  for  breakfast,"  he  answered  cheerily. 
And  it  was.  He  had  sat  by  me  while  I  slept  the 
whole  night  long. 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE    DRIVE 

WE  took  our  ride  that  afternoon,  and  Jesus 
enjoyed  the  outing  even  more  than  I.  Indeed  he 
was  like  a  lad  loose  for  a  holiday.  Places  which 
soon  wearied  me  seemed  to  hold  him  beyond 
reason. 

We  lingered  long  at  the  quaint  market-place, 
where  picturesque  hucksters,  men  and  women, 
boys  and  girls,  sat  or  stood  with  their  varied  wares, 
all  placidly  puffing  cigarettes.  Here  squatted  a 
wrinkled  crone,  whose  whole  stock  in  trade  was 
a  hat  full  of  corn ;  there  an  aged  Indian  with  a 
pretty  fawn  for  sale ;  venders  of  sugared  stuff 
called  "  dulce,"  fruit,  vegetables,  meat,  and  other 
edibles,  some  on  stands,  some  on  the  bare  ground ; 
—  booths  gay  with  gorgeous  feather  work,  figures 
of  wax,  lace,  saddles,  and  sombreros.  All  was 
orderly.  Even  the  haggling  was  done  with  an 
easy,  deferential  courtesy.  In  none  of  the  faces 
did  I  see  that  sharp,  strained  look  of  hungering 
for  trade,  so  common  in  streets  and  marts  at 

45 


46  JESUS   DELANEY 

home.  Why  this  universal  aspect  of  content  ? 
Is  it  the  climate,  or  is  it  tobacco  ?  Or  may  it  not 
be  the  great  gift  of  good  breeding  which  puts  the 
best  face  on  things,  and  forbids  the  outward  show 
of  inward  meanness  ? 

"All  this  should  be  familiar  to  you,"  I  remarked 
to  Jesus. 

"  Do  you  know,  I  have  not  been  here  since 
childhood,"  he  replied  almost  pathetically. 

"What!  Were  you  so  closely  confined  at  the 
Institute?" 

"  It  was  necessary.  I  had  to  be  weaned  from 
the  past.  But  now  I  can  be  trusted  to  see  things 
as  they  are." 

A  group  approached,  consisting  of  an  old  man 
with  a  guitar,  and  his  son  and  daughter.  Stopping 
close  to  our  vehicle,  the  aged  musician  struck  a 
few  chords,  and  the  woman,  who  had  a  pleasing 
face  and  a  rich  contralto  voice,  sang :  — 

LA  GOLONDRINA 

Adonde  ira  veloz  y  fatigada 
La  golondrina  que  de  aqui  se  va  ? 

O,  si  en  el  aire  gemira  estraviada, 
Buscando  abrigo  y  no  lo  encontrard. 

Junto  a  mi  lecho  le  pondre  su  nido 
Endonde  pueda  la  estacion  pasar ; 

Tambien  yo  estoy  en  la  region  perfida 
O !  Cielo  santo,  sin  poder  volar. 


THE   DRIVE  47 

Deje'  tambien  mi  patria  idolotrada, 
Esa  mansion  que  me  miro  nacer ; 

Mi  vida  es  hoy  errante  y  angustiada 
Y  ya  no  puedo  a  mi  mansion  volver. 

Ah !  ven,  querida  amable  perigrina, 
Mi  corazon  al  tuyo  estrechare, 

Oird  tu  canto,  tierna  golondrina, 
Recordar^  mi  patria,  y  luego  llorard. 

It  was  a  song  of  exile  —  a  song  of  love  and 
longing  for  motherland.  Even  to  me,  scarce  con- 
scious of  its  meaning,  came  tender  memories  of 
home.  And  Jesus  ?  His  eyes  closed  as  he  lis- 
tened, but  one  could  see  the  emotions  of  the  plain- 
tive melody  mirrored  on  his  sensitive  face.  There 
was  no  applause  ;  the  crowd  that  had  gathered 
were  strangely  silent.  But  more  than  one  applied 
his  blanket  to  moistened  eyes. 

When  the  woman  went  among  them  it  was 
noticeable  how  the  very  poorest  paid  the  tribute  of 
a  penny.  Jesus  dropped  into  her  cup  a  big  silver 
coin. 

"  Another  song,  Seflorita,"  he  pleaded. 

The  watchful  harpist  saw  his  unwonted  fortune 
and  with  that  ready  tact,  the  wisdom  of  his  stroll- 
ing life,  commenced  a  sweet  pathetic  strain.  It 
seemed  to  me  the  daughter  looked  at  him  reproach- 
fully, but  he  gave  a  knowing  and  imperative  nod 
and  again  repeated  the  feeling  prelude.  With 


48  JESUS   DELANEY 

evident  reluctance,  she  began,  her  voice  low  and 
trembling. 

Had  the  old  man  cunningly  chosen  it  to  catch 
another  coin  from  his  liberal  auditor  ?  Was  it  for 
some  reason  too  sacred  with  the  young  woman  for 
such  a  purpose  ?  I  observed  that  all  through  the 
song,  while  the  sharp  eyes  of  the  father  were 
fastened  on  Jesus,  the  lowered  lids  of  his  daughter 
were  raised  not  once. 

It  was  of  a  youth  who  never  had  known  love 
nor  the  sweets  of  life.  But  in  the  convent  case- 
ment one  day  he  saw  a  maiden  fair  —  "  una  her- 
mosa  doncella,  mas  bella  que  un  angel "  —  and 
their  eyes  gave  love  for  love  and  there  was  no  more 
peace  for  youth  or  maid.  He  pined  within  the 
prison  of  his  home  —  she  waned  within  the  cruel 
convent  walls,  till  death  at  last  came  in  and  set 
them  free.  Their  souls,  apart  on  earth,  unite  in 
heaven. 

It  was  prettily  told  and  soulf  ully  sung.  I  looked 
at  my  companion.  He  was  pale,  tears  filled  his 
eyes. 

"  Let  us  go,  Jesus,"  said  I,  but  I  had  to  take  the 
reins  myself. 

Was  he  always  so  emotional?  Or  was  it  the 
long  vigil  while  I  slept  ? 

During  the  drive  he  sat  silent  until  we  reached 


THE   DRIVE 


49 


a  lofty  point  overlooking  the  city.  Here  we 
paused  to  contemplate  a  glorious  picture.  Beneath, 
lay  Alameda. 

Undimmed  by  smoke,  undisfigured  by  chimneys, 
its  white  walls  and  gleaming  spires  clustered  lov- 
ingly round  nestling  plazas,  while  everywhere  the 
eye  was  charmed  with  countless  patios  of  trees  and 
flowers  and  fountains. 

"  My  birthplace,"  said  Jesus.  "  Is  it  not  beau- 
tiful?" 

His  face  lit  up  with  loyalty  and  love,  and  in  a 
low  voice,  as  if  to  himself,  he  recited,  rhyth- 
mically :  — 

ALAMEDA 

Who  can  know  and  love  thee  not, 

Alameda. 
Earth  can  boast  no  fairer  spot, 

Alameda. 

From  afar  thy  temples  stand, 
Not  as  built  by  human  hand 
But  as  sprung  from  magic  wand, 

Alameda. 

Beauteous  thou  art  by  day, 

Alameda, 
When  thy  sun-god  holds  his  sway, 

Alameda ; 

Yet  more  beauteous  still  by  night, 
Bathing  in  the  moon's  soft  light, 
All  thy  charms  enchant  the  sight, 

Alameda. 


50  JESUS  DELANEY 

"Is  there  no  more  of  that?"  I  asked  when 
he  stopped. 

He  looked  up  smiling  and  blushing.  "Yes, 
there's  one  more  verse.  But  it's  silly ;  I  wrote  it 
years  ago." 

"  Let  us  have  it,"  said  I,  and  he  continued  :  — 

All  that  art  has  done  for  thee, 

Alameda, 
Seated  on  the  mountain's  knee, 

Alameda, 

Rivals  not  the  priceless  prize 
That  I  seek  with  tears  and  sighs 
In  thy  senorita's  eyes, 

Alameda. 

Passing  down  the  mountain  on  our  way  back 
to  the  city,  we  met  a  cavalcade  of  ladies  and 
gentlemen,  whose  talk  and  laughter  heralded 
their  approach  long  before  they  came  in  sight. 
To  my  surprise,  among  the  gay  party  were  Nos. 
i,  2,  and  3  from  the  Institute.  The  gentlemen 
were  evidently  young  Mexicans,  and  they  and 
their  horses  were  decked  out  in  a  fashion  only 
seen  at  a  circus  parade.  Silver  and  gold  inlaid 
the  saddles  and  glistened  on  their  hats,  jackets, 
and  pantaloons. 

"Who  are  those  fellows?"  I  asked  Jesus  when 
they  had  passed. 


THE   DRIVE  5! 

"  I  do  not  know.  The  girls  have  many  sweet- 
hearts, I  believe,"  and  he  smiled  as  if  it  was  the 
natural  order  of  things.  Well,  probably  so  ;  but  it 
did  not  accord  with  my  former  notions  of  mission- 
ary life.  It  was  not  the  picture  I  had  often  framed 
in  my  mind  at  meetings  of  the  mission  board  when 
hearing  the  harrowing  tales  of  sacrifice,  suffering, 
and  hardship  in  the  heroic  fight  with  Rome. 

But  the  unpleasant  impression  was  forgotten 
a  moment  afterward  when,  riding  along  a  narrow 
street  of  scattering  jakals,  we  saw  sitting  in  front 
of  the  meanest  hut  of  all,  Mrs.  Lamb.  There 
was  a  wretched,  dark-featured  woman  beside  her, 
whose  hands  she  held  and  to  whom  she  was  talk- 
ing so  earnestly  that  our  passing  did  not  disturb 
her. 

"That's  Dona  Garda,"  said  Jesus,  and  added 
enthusiastically,  "  Mrs.  Lamb  is  an  angel." 

Our  way  took  us  by  the  great  cathedral  famed 
throughout  Mexico  for  its  architectural  grandeur. 
We  drew  up  in  front  of  it,  and  I  wanted  Jesus 
to  go  in  with  me,  for  I  had  heard  much  of  its 
altars,  statuary,  and  paintings.  He  declined. 

"  I  cannot  so  far  countenance  idolatry,"  he  said. 
"Just  look  at  these  benighted  people!"  He 
pointed  to  the  interior. 

We  could  see  some  distance  within,  where  groups 


H2  JESUS  DELANEY 

were  kneeling,  and  here  and  there  a  figure  lay 
prostrate. 

Even  passers-by  showed  their  veneration ;  every 
mozo,  as  he  came  along,  would  raise  his  hat  while 
his  lips  moved  in  prayer. 

"Is  it  not  abominable?"  said  Jesus,  passionately. 

Now,  for  the  life  of  me,  I  could  see  nothing 
abominable  about  it. 

"What  is  the  harm  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Why,  the  servility  of  it !  "  he  broke  forth  in 
excitement.  "  Raising  the  hat  to  senseless  stones ! " 

"  But  surely  it  is  not  to  the  stones  they  raise 
their  hats.  There  are  stones  elsewhere  along  the 
streets.  It  is  to  this  temple,  which  they  believe 
to  be  the  house  of  God." 

"The  day  will  come  when  Mexican  manhood 
will  scorn  the  practice  as  degrading  and  humili- 
ating. All  they  need  is  familiarity  with  the  true 
faith." 

"  Well,  here  comes  one  familiar  with  the  true 
faith,"  said  I. 

It  was  Antonio.  With  a  bundle  under  each 
arm,  he  was  speeding  from  the  market  home- 
ward. He  did  not  notice  us,  such  was  his  hurry, 
yet,  when  he  got  to  the  church,  he  halted,  put  down 
the  bundles,  raised  his  hat  devoutly,  then  resuming 
his  burden,  started  off  on  his  peculiar  trot. 


THE  DRIVE 


53 


I  could  not  help  laughing  at  the  chagrin  of 
Jesus. 

"  Antonio  is  incorrigible,"  he  said,  "  but  there 
are  others  — ' 

And  there  were.  Even  as  he  spoke,  his  eyes 
caught  the  outline  of  a  woman's  figure  emerging 
from  the  gloom  of  the  interior,  and  he  paused.  I 
observed  his  strained  look,  and  following  its  di- 
rection saw  the  woman  reverently  dip  her  finger 
in  the  holy-water  font,  bless  herself,  and  come 
out.  As  she  was  about  to  pass,  she  raised  her 
eyes  and  an  expression  of  recognition  at  once  and 
shame  came  over  her  worn  features.  She  hesi- 
tated, trembling,  troubled,  then  stood  with  ex- 
tended arms. 

"Jesus  !  hijo  mio  !  "  she  murmured. 

The  look  of  pain  and  deep  resentment  in  the 
face  of  Jesus  changed  instantly  to  one  of  love,  and 
leaping  out  he  embraced  his  mother. 

I  stole  away  into  the  church  so  as  to  leave  them 
for  a  space  together.  When  I  came  back,  Jesus 
was  alone,  and  his  eyes  met  mine  with  an  infinite 
sadness  and  pride. 

From  the  church  we  turned  into  a  business 
thoroughfare.  To  an  American  whose  idea  of 
Mexico  is  a  confusion  of  adobe  and  cactus,  and 
whose  ideal  Mexican  is  a  slouching,  ear-ringed 


54  JESUS   DELANEY 

fellow  with  blanket  and  sombrero,  such  a  street 
is  a  revelation.  Massive  structures  of  brick  and 
stone,  banks,  office  buildings,  telegraph  and  tele- 
phone, street  cars,  omnibuses,  hacks  and  all  kinds 
of  modern  vehicles,  well-dressed  men,  and  ladies 
elegant  in  the  latest  Paris  fashions,  bustling  clerks 
and  hustling  porters — everywhere  the  alert  aspect 
of  trade  and  the  rush  and  war  of  active  traffic. 
One  could  easily  have  thought  himself  in  some 
thriving  city  of  the  North.  As  I  looked,  the 
great  bell  of  the  cathedral  sounded  three  solemn 
strokes.  A  hush  fell  upon  the  throng.  Hats 
were  raised,  heads  bowed,  and  knees  bent.  The 
bell  had  announced  the  Ave  Maria. 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE   STUBBY   MAN 

WE  supped  together  at  the  hotel.  We  were  to 
conclude  the  day's  outing  by  going  to  the  plaza 
for  the  usual  Thursday  evening  concert  and  prom- 
enade. Jesus  was  singularly  reserved,  almost 
melancholy.  Failing  in  every  effort  to  rouse  him 
to  his  accustomed  cheerfulness,  I  became  inter- 
ested in  the  various  groups  about  the  dining  room. 
Without  exception,  they  were  noticeable  for  loud 
talk  and  violent  gesture.  It  is  said  that  there  are 
but  two  places  at  which  the  Mexican  lets  himself 
loose  —  the  restaurant  and  the  bull-ring.  Not 
having  at  that  time  ever  seen  a  bull-fight,  I  could 
not  speak  for  their  conduct  there,  but  surely  more 
cackling  and  shouting  and  all-around  coarseness 
were  displayed  in  that  dining  room  than  I  had  yet 
seen  elsewhere  in  Mexico. 

"  Your  countrymen  are  rather  noisy  at  meals,"  I 
remarked  to  Jesus. 

"  And  yours  seem,  if  anything,  noisier." 

The  reply  was  so  unlike  him,  I  looked  up  in 
surprise.  He  nodded  moodily  toward  a  party  of 

55 


56  JESUS  DELANEY 

gentlemen  who  occupied  an  adjoining  table  and 
were  particularly  garrulous  and  demonstrative. 
Sure  enough,  they  were  Americans,  five  of  them, 
and  four  of  the  five  were  talking  away  at  once  as 
vociferous  as  auctioneers.  It  was  impossible  to 
tell  from  their  clamor  what  they  were  talking 
about.  But  at  the  height  of  the  din  an  obstinate 
cork  with  which  their  waiter  had  been  struggling 
went  off  with  a  resonant  pop,  and  there  was  sud- 
den silence.  Forgetting  -  their  contention,  all 
watched  critically  the  filling  of  the  glasses,  after 
draining  which  the  rival  tongues  again  ran  riot 
until  another  pop  made  peace. 

The  fifth  member  of  the  group  had  taken  no 
part  in  the  previous  wrangle.  He  seemed  con- 
tent to  listen  and  drink,  and  he  did  both  with 
grim  deliberation.  But,  after  the  second  bottle, 
he  spoke,  and  the  rest  were  respectfully  and  unex- 
pectedly silent.  He  was  a  short,  stout,  reddish- 
faced  man,  who  can  be  best  described  by  the  word 
"  stubby."  In  a  multitude  of  ways  he  suggested 
that  term.  His  hair  was  stubby,  his  beard  ditto, 
ears,  nose,  body,  hands,  and  feet  all  stubby.  It 
seemed  as  if  he  had  originally  started  out  to  be  big, 
and  suddenly  stopped  short.  Even  his  voice  gave 
the  same  impression.  It  was  strong,  but  abrupt. . 

"  Idiot,"   he   spoke,    "  spends   week   Texas,   or 


THE   STUBBY   MAN 


57 


shoots  in  and  out  of  the  country  by  rail,  thinks 
write  book  Mexico."  Each  word  was  a  growl. 

"  But  Prescott's  history  says  —  "  began  one  of 
the  party. 

"  Stuff!"  harshly  interrupted  the  stubby  man. 

"Well,  Wallace's  'Fair  God'  —  "  remarked 
another. 

"  Rot ! "  snarled  the  stubby  man  and  went  on : 
"  Takes  years  know  man.  How  long  take  know  peo- 
ple? I'm  here  fifteen  years.  In  fifteen  more,  may — " 
here  he  stopped  abruptly  and  drained  his  glass. 

"  Write  a  book  ?  "  questioned  one. 

But  he  vouchsafed  no  reply. 

"There's  a  sensible  man,"  said  Jesus. 

"  I  thought,"  modestly  ventured  another  of  the 
party,  "  the  cruelty  of  the  Spaniards  to  the  natives 
was  undisputed." 

"Of  course,  undisputed.  Why  not?"  snapped 
the  stubby  man.  "  So  cruelty  Normans  Saxons, 
British  Irish,  cruelty  all  conquerors  conquered. 
What  our  treatment  natives  ?  " 

"  Oh  !     Our  Indians  are  nearly  all  — 

"Dead!"  growled  the  stubby  man.  "Yes! 
Dead  while  Indians  Mexico  survive.  Eight  mill- 
ions of  them.  We  killed  ours  off  and  have  damned 
impudence  "  -  he  stopped  and  drank  again  —  "  to 
send  missionaries  to  Mexico." 


58  JESUS   DELANEY 

Jesus  was  listening  with  a  look  of  pleased 
approval,  but  at  the  closing  words  his  face 
clouded. 

The  stubby  man  said  no  more,  and  his  com- 
panions, who  for  some  reason  seemed  awed  by 
him,  were  soon  babbling  away  again. 

"  Do  you  know,"  shouted  one,  "  the  beauty  of 
Alameda  will  be  on  the  plaza  to-night." 

"Who  is  she?" 

"  Why,  the  daughter  of  Governor  Romero." 

"She  is  a  beauty,"  said  another,  "but  she  is 
engaged  to  Licenciado  Francisco  Benavides." 

"  Did  you  hear  that  name  ? "  Jesus  inquired  of 
me. 

"  Benavides  ? " 

"  No.  Governor  Romero.  My  grandfather 
saved  his  life  once." 

"  Indeed  !     How  was  that  ? " 

"  By  refusing  to  fight  a  duel  with  him." 

I  had  to  laugh  at  the  seriousness  with  which  he 
gave  the  reply.  He  assured  me,  however,  that  a 
duel  with  his  grandfather  was  no  laughing  matter. 
And,  as  he  walked  from  the  dining  room  and  I 
observed  his  splendid  height,  massive  shoulders, 
and  easy,  supple  carriage,  I  could  not  help  think- 
ing he  was  right,  if  the  grandfather  bore  much 
resemblance  to  the  grandson. 


CHAPTER   IX 

THE  ARREST 

WE  strolled  down  to  the  plaza.  It  was  my  first 
view  of  a  scene  that  I  had  often  read  and  heard 
of.  Round  a  public  square,  glorious  with  trop- 
ical trees  and  plants  and  playing  fountains  that 
gleamed  and  shimmered  in  the  fierce  stare  of 
electric  lamps  and  the  mellow  glow  of  the  moon, 
there  promenaded  to  the  music  of  a  magnificent 
band  several  thousand  people,  ladies  in  one  col- 
umn, gentlemen  in  the  other,  moving  in  opposite 
directions.  For  some  minutes  we  stood  watching 
the  circling  multitude,  then  we  joined  the  male 
procession  and,  arm  in  arm,  went  the  rounds. 

Young  people  in  Mexico  are  not  permitted  the 
same  freedom  as  with  us.  Cupid  must  shoot  at 
long  range.  Ante-nuptial  intimacy  is  forbidden. 
But  this  romantic  countermarching  on  the  plaza 
takes  its  place.  Face  to  face  at  every  round,  El 
Senor  meets  La  Sefiorita ;  at  every  round,  answer- 
ing eyes  make  love.  Now  chance  is  found  to 
fling  a  kiss  —  now  notes  are  swiftly  passed  —  love, 

59 


60  JESUS  DELANEY 

that  laughs  at  locksmiths  and  outwits  the  wisest 
the  world  over,  finds  here  his  ways  and  means  of 
courtship. 

It  did  not  take  long  to  tire  me  tramping  round, 
but  I  believe  Jesus  would  have  walked  that  plaza 
forever.  "  Just  one  more  turn,"  he  would  plead  to 
my  protest  of  weariness,  and  after  that  again  and 
again,  "one  more." 

We  seated  ourselves  at  last  on  a  bench  where  I 
thought  we  could  observe  all  the  rest.  Unfortu- 
nately the  noisy  group  of  Americans  who  occupied 
the  adjoining  table  at  tea  were  on  the  same  bench 
and  loud  as  ever.  Nothing  more  mars  one's 
enjoyment  of  a  thing  of  beauty  than  vapid  babble. 
Their  pointless  jibes  and  jokes  became  intolerable. 
I  wondered  how  the  stubby  man,  who  sat  with 
them,  endured  it.  "  Let  us  leave,"  I  whispered, 
standing  up ;  and  my  companion  rose  reluctantly. 
At  this  moment  one  of  the  loud  young  men  called 
out :  "  Look,  boys !  There  comes  the  Governor 
and  his  daughter." 

A  carriage  was  driving  up,  in  which  were 
seated  a  very  old  gentleman  and  a  very  young 
lady.  The  carriage  stopped  almost  beside  us, 
and,  as  much  to  make  room  for  the  occupants  to 
alight  as  out  of  curiosity,  we  resumed  our  seats. 
The  Governor,  for  it  was  he,  dignifiedly  handed 


THE   ARREST  fo 

out  his  daughter,  and  she  passed  so  close  that 
I  had  a  good  view  of  her  face.  Now  I  have 
reached  the  age  when  we  become  critical  and  dis- 
criminating in  the  matter  of  female  beauty.  I  can 
reason  whether  it  is  a  gift  of  nature  or  a  work 
of  art,  how  much  of  it  is  due  to  the  setting,  how 
much  is  subjective,  —  an  age  when,  in  fact,  I  sup- 
posed myself  free  from  prejudice  or  passion  and 
incapable  of  surprise.  But  the  face  of  Seftorita 
Romero  dazzled  me ;  she  was  a  goddess  aglow 
with  the  glory  of  her  own  loveliness.  Describe 
her !  I  have  tried  to  do  so  again  and  again,  and 
failed  flatly.  As  well  describe  the  blossom  or 
the  sunbeam  —  perfume  or  music. 

"  Well,  I  declare,"  said  I,  turning  to  Jesus, 
"  that  is  the  most  perfect  —  But  the  expression 
of  his  face  stopped  me.  I  had  seen  in  the  church 
that  afternoon  just  such  a  look  on  an  Indian  girl, 
standing  with  clasped  hands  before  a  statue  of 
the  virgin. 

"  Don't  last,  these  seftoritas,"  came  the  rasping 
voice  of  the  stubby  man.  "  Early  ripe,  early 
rot." 

Jesus  didn't  hear,  nor  did  he  move. 

Soon  the  Governor  and  his  daughter  made  the 
round  and  passed  again.  She  was  chatting  gayly, 
and  her  voice,  sweet  and  soft,  was  in  harmony 


62  JESUS  DELANEY 

with  her  face.  Now,  I  had  seen  all  I  came  to  see, 
and  it  was  my  usual  time  for  retiring,  yet  there 
we  sat  another  hour,  and  for  what  ?  —  just  to 
catch,  every  few  minutes,  a  glimpse  of  a  pretty 
girl ;  and  throughout  that  hour,  explain  it  if  you 
can,  neither  missionary  nor  graybeard  spoke  a 
word. 

At  last  the  Governor,  as  he  approached,  waved 
his  hand  to  the  watchful  coachman  and  escorted 
his  daughter  toward  the  carriage.  The  cochero 
leaped  from  his  box  to  open  the  carriage  door. 
In  doing  so,  the  reins  were  awkwardly  flung  on 
the  horses'  haunches,  and  the  startled  animals 
plunged  violently.  Two  or  three  little  policemen 
sprang  at  their  heads,  but  only  increased  their 
fright,  and  they  reared  and  backed  the  carriage 
on  the  curbing.  The  excited  Governor  left  his 
daughter's  side,  and  giving  confused  orders  in 
Spanish,  tried  to  seize  the  reins.  In  the  effort 
his  foot  slipped,  and  he  fell  under  the  horses' 
hoofs. 

"  Mi  Padre !     Salvenlo !  "  shrieked  his  daughter. 

With  a  bound  Jesus  clutched  him  by  the  collar 
and  jerked  him  to  safety,  but  so  forcibly,  it 
seemed  to  me  the  old  man's  neck  snapped,  then 
springing  to  the  horses'  heads,  soon  mastered 
them.  There  was  a  chorus  of  vivas  from  the 


THE   ARREST  63 

crowd,  and  the  Seftorita  beamed  her  gratitude. 
Not  so  the  Governor.  He  had  not  realized  his 
danger.  He  deemed  himself  assaulted.  It  took 
him  some  time  to  get  breath,  but  when  he  did  his 
eyes  were  bulging  and  his  face  purple.  "  Bribon 
atrevido ! "  he  cried,  shaking  his  fist  at  Jesus. 
"  Vd.  me  ha  asaltado."  Then  turning  to  the  police 
who  had  gathered,  he  shouted :  — 

"  Aresten  a  este  hombre  !     Arestenlo  !  " 

At  this  order  to  arrest,  a  little  bow-legged  fel- 
low, eager  to  show  his  prowess  before  the  Gover- 
nor, rushed  upon  Jesus,  clutched  his  throat,  and 
strove  to  push  him  backward.  For  a  moment, 
Jesus  was  too  astonished  to  resist ;  but  only  for  a 
moment.  Flinging  off  his  assailant  as  he  would  a 
fly,  he  drew  himself  to  his  lordly  height  and  cast 
on  the  Governor  a  look  of  leonine  indignation 
and  defiance.  I  tried  to  interpose  and  explain, 
but  my  efforts  only  redoubled  the  Governor's 
rage. 

"Arestenlo!  Soy  el  Gobernador;"  he  repeated. 
"  Arestenlo ! " 

Fully  a  dozen  officers  now  started  for  Jesus, 
some  of  them  with  hands  on  pistols. 

"  Yield,  Delaney !  "  I  cried.  "  Yield,  man,  we 
can  explain." 

"  Yield  !     I  will  die  first !  "     There  was  an  ugly 


64  JESUS   DELANEY 

curl  of  the  lip  and  a  glare  in  the  eyes  that  was 
ferocious.  Every  savage  instinct  was  aroused. 
His  mighty  arm  shot  out,  and  down  went  a  police- 
man. Right  and  left  he  struck  as  they  advanced, 
and  every  blow  felled  an  adversary.  With 
nature's  weapons,  he  was  match  for  a  multitude. 
But  pistols  were  drawn.  I  saw  the  gleam  and 
heard  the  click. 

"  Good  God  !  What  an  outrage  !  "  I  shouted, 
and  forgetting  my  years  and  infirmities,  brought 
my  cane  down  on  the  head  of  a  scoundrel  who 
was  about  to  shoot. 

"  I'm  with  you,  old  boy ! "  growled  the  stubby 
man  at  my  side,  and  he  smote  a  Philistine  on  the 
skull.  Just  then,  I  saw  a  dastardly  deed.  A  tall, 
swarthy  man  with  white,  prominent  teeth,  came 
from  the  crowd  that  was  watching  the  fray, 
and  sneaking  behind  Jesus,  felled  him  with  a 
fearful  blow  from  a  heavy  cane.  The  officers 
pounced  on  the  fallen  man.  The  battle  was 
over. 

In  vain  Senorita  Romero  cast  her  arms  round 
her  father's  neck  and  pleaded.  His  dignity  had 
to  be  vindicated.  The  prisoner  was  carted  away. 
I  saw  an  officer  point  at  me  as  if  suggesting  my 
active  complicity.  But  the  Governor  shook  his 
head ;  he  was  satiated  with  a  single  victim.  I  was 


THE  ARREST  65 

bewildered,  the  whole  occurrence  was  so  sudden, 
senseless,  terrific.  I  looked  about  for  the  stubby 
man.  He  was  gone.  The  band  was  playing 
another  march,  and  the  crowd  that  had  gathered 
melted  again  into  the  double  procession. 


CHAPTER  X 

INCOMUNICADO 

IT  was  some  time  before  I  could  control  myself 
sufficiently  to  decide  what  should  be  done.  Then 
I  summoned  a  hack  and  ordered  the  driver  to  carry 
me  to  the  city  prison.  We  drew  up  before  an  im- 
posing structure,  at  whose  doors  soldiers  stood  on 
guard.  Entering  the  dingy  office,  I  asked  a  fat 
man  who  sat  at  a  desk  if  I  could  see  my  friend. 
He  did  not  even  deign  to  look  at  me  as  he  gruffly 
replied :  — 

"  No  !     Esta  incomunicado."  * 

It  is  the  custom,  I  was  afterward  informed, 
to  keep  persons  arrested  on  a  criminal  charge  in- 
accessible for  three  days  to  any  one  except  the 
criminal  judge.  During  such  a  period  the  accused 
is  "  incomunicado." 

I  asked  if  he  knew  the  extent  of  his  injuries ;  he 
shrugged  his  shoulders. 

"But  he  is  injured.  Can  I  not  send  him  a 
doctor  ? " 

66 


INCOMUNICADO  67 

"  No  !     Esta  incomunicado." 

I  insisted  that  there  must  be  some  way  of  secur- 
ing for  the  prisoner  proper  medical  attendance. 
Again  that  dubious  shrug.  Disheartened,  I  turned 
from  the  uncommunicative  brute  and  walked  out. 
A  respectable-looking  man  followed  me. 

"  I  can  tell  you,  sir,  how  you  can  have  a  physician 
see  your  friend,"  he  said  in  very  good  English. 

"  You  will  greatly  oblige  me  by  doing  so." 

"  I  myself  am  a  physician,  and  I  think  with  a 
little  money  I  can  gain  admittance  to  the  prisoner," 
he  answered,  handing  me  his  card.  It  read  :  — 

DOCTOR  RAFAEL  MEDINA, 

MEDICO-ClRUJANO 

De  la  Facultad  de  Mexico 

I  eyed  him  closely,  for  I  am  not  one  to  be  easily 
imposed  upon. 

His  clean-shaven  face,  plain  black  clothes,  and 
solemn  expression  gave  him  an  appearance  de- 
cidedly clerical.  But  his  eyes  were  convincing. 
If  ever  eyes  were  windows  of  the  soul,  such  seemed 
to  be  the  eyes  of  Doctor  Medina.  A  soul  looked  out 
from  them,  —  a  soul  full  of  tenderness,  truthfulness, 
and  intelligence,  an  honest  soul,  a  good  soul.  My 
doubts  vanished. 


68  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  How  much  money  will  it  take  ?  " 

"  About  ten  dollars,"  he  replied  with  a  frank 
smile. 

"  Will  five  do  ?  "  I  asked,  desirous  of  making  as 
good  a  bargain  as  possible. 

"It  may,"  said  he,  dubiously;  then  brightening 
up  resolutely  —  "  It  must "  —  he  added. 

"  Then  here  is  five  dollars.  The  prisoner's  name 
is  Jesus  Delaney.  He  has  a  wound  on  the  back 
of  his  head.  Attend  him  and  report  to  me  at 
the  Hotel  San  Jos6  to-night."  I  drove  to  the 
Institute. 

I  was  glad  to  see  a  light  there,  for  it  was  already 
late.  I  rapped  at  the  heavy  oaken  door  with  my 
cane. 

"Who  is  there?"  It  was  the  voice  of  Miss 
Anderson. 

"  Me ! " 

"Me!"  The  pronoun  was  protested.  "Who 
are  you,  sir  ? " 

My  name  gained  me  admittance. 

"  Is  the  Reverend  Lamb  still  up  ?  " 

"No!  He  has  retired."  She  was  grim  and 
suspicious. 

"  What  is  the  trouble  ? " 

I  hesitated.  A  woman  and  the  affianced  of  the 
unfortunate  man  —  could  she  bear  the  shock  ? 


INCOMUNICADO 


69 


Her  calm  demeanor  decided  me.  Gently,  delicately 
as  possible,  I  broke  the  news.  She  never  winced. 
It  was  I  who  was  nervous.  Several  times  during 
the  narration  she  interrupted  to  correct  names  and 
details  of  no  earthly  moment,  and  at  the  close  I 
had  the  uncomfortable  feeling  of  a  schoolboy  who 
has  just  made  a  most  discreditable  recitation. 

"  What  business  had  you  and  he  on  the  plaza  ? " 
she  asked  severely. 

"Just  curiosity." 

"Curiosity,"  with  profound  reproof,  "the  sin  of 
Adam." 

"  Going  there  was  my  fault  entirely,  Miss  Ander- 
son, not  his." 

"  It  was  unbecoming  in  both.  He  is  a  mission- 
ary, you  an  old  man." 

This  nettled  me.  I  felt  like  retorting  that  even 
to  be  old  and  a  missionary  at  the  same  time  did 
not  save  some  people  from  folly ;  but  I  checked 
myself  and  respectfully  requested  her  to  call  the 
Reverend  Lamb. 

"  I  doubt  the  propriety,  sir,"  she  said,  "  of  dis- 
turbing him  on  any  such  business." 

"  Why,  madam,  his  assistant  is  in  a  Mexican 
bastile,  and  he  is  - 

"There  is  no  bastile  in  Mexico,"  she  interrupted, 
accenting  bastile  on  the  last  syllable.  "  It  existed 


70  JESUS   DELANEY 

in  France  until  1 789,  when  it  was  destroyed  during 
the  Revolution." 

"  In  a  lousy  lock-up,  then,  madam,  and  he's 
wounded  !  "  I  was  downright  angry  with  her. 

"  Wounded  !  "  There  was  a  perceptible  tremor 
in  the  tone,  but  she  managed  to  emphasize  a  pro- 
nunciation differing  from  mine. 

"  Yes !  Wounded  and  bloody.  A  scoundrel 
smashed  him  on  the  head  —  I  said  no  more,  for 
Miss  Anderson,  with  uplifted  hands,  whimpered 
weakly,  "  O  dear !  I  will  call  Brother  Lamb," 
and  left  the  room. 

I  expected  that  the  Reverend  Lamb  would  be 
deeply  grieved  and  shocked,  but  he  wasn't.  On 
the  contrary,  as  I  related  the  affair,  there  came 
upon  his  face  an  expression  of  positive  gratifica- 
tion. He  must  have  observed  my  surprise  at  this, 
for  when  his  eyes  caught  mine,  a  quick,  conscious 
change  came  on  him.  "Ah  !  It  is  too  bad  !  Too 
bad !  "  he  remarked,  but  he  didn't  look  as  if  it  was 
particularly  bad  —  in  fact  there  appeared  to  be 
something  particularly  good  in  it,  for  he  assumed 
the  forlorn  with  evident  effort. 

"What  is  to  be  done  ?  "  I  asked. 

"  Nothing  can  be  done  to-night." 

"  What !  Must  we  leave  him  in  jail  like  a  felon  ? 
Is  there  no  bail,  no  habeas  corpus  for  such  a  case  ? " 


INCOMUNICADO  7! 

"  There  is  the  will  of  Governor  Romero,"  he 
answered  complacently.  "  He  is  the  accuser,  the 
law,  and  the  court." 

"  Damn  such  a  country !  " 

"Brother!" 

"  Damn  such  a  country  !  "  I  repeated,  and  went 
off  without  saying  good  night 

But  in  the  hall  I  met  Mrs.  Lamb,  to  whom  I  had 
to  relate  what  happened.  She  was  much  moved  : 
indeed,  when  I  came  to  tell  how  Jesus  had  been 
stricken  down  and  jailed,  she  seemed  about  to 
faint,  and  I  ran  for  water  to  the  room  in  which  I 
had  left  the  Reverend  Lamb.  Hastily  entering,  I 
was  amazed  to  see  him  standing  looking  up  at  the 
ceiling  with  the  broadest  kind  of  a  grin  on  his  face. 

"  Your  wife  is  ill,"  I  exclaimed,  and  seizing  the 
pitcher  rushed  back. 

He  came  after  me  showing  much  concern,  but 
we  found  Mrs.  Lamb  recovered. 

"  Jesus  must  be  released  at  once,"  she  said ; 
"  what  a  gross  outrage  on  our  boy  !  " 

"  Nothing  can  be  done  now,"  said  the  Reverend 
Lamb,  meekly.  "  But  I  will  report  the  outrage  to 
the  Board.  It  will  cause  great  indignation  and 
much  sympathy  for  the  cause  —  much  sympathy." 
Something  like  a  satisfied  smirk  flitted  over  his 
otherwise  solemn  countenance. 


72  JESUS   DELANEY 

Mrs.  Lamb's  cheeks  flushed  and  her  eyes  blazed 
on  her  husband  as  she  said,  "  The  report  can  wait, 
but  Jesus  must  not  be  allowed  to  lie  in  that  jail.  If 
you  don't  act,  then  I  will  — 

"We  will  act  in  the  morning,  be  assured,"  said 
he,  more  meekly  still. 

With  this  assurance  I  left,  and  on  my  way  to 
the  hotel  kept  wondering  how  the  Reverend  Lamb 
ever  won  so  magnificent  a  woman. 


CHAPTER  XI 

U.  S.  CONSUL  LEECH 

THE  Reverend  Lamb  was  at  my  room  early  the 
next  morning.  He  seemed  to  have  reached  the 
conclusion  during  the  night  that  it  was  his  duty 
to  take  prompt  measures  for  the  release  of  Jesus. 
He  was  earnest,  resolute,  and  urgent,  in  marked 
contrast  to  his  manner  of  the  evening  previous, 
making  the  latter  all  the  more  inexplicable. 

"We  must  see  the  American  consul,"  he  said. 
"  Consul  Leech  is  intimate  with  the  Governor  and 
is  a  friend  of  mine.  I  know  he  will  assist  us." 

I  wondered  why  he  hadn't  suggested  this  course 
when  I  first  spoke  to  him,  but  there  was  no  time 
to  lose  in  questioning.  Off  we  started  to  the 
American  consulate.  It  was  not  yet  open. 

"  We  will  go  to  his  residence,"  said  the  Reverend 
Lamb,  and  there  we  went.  The  consul  was  in  the 
garden,  but  came  as  soon  as  we  were  announced. 
I  had  heard  a  good  deal  of  Consul  Leech.  He 
was  often  mentioned  in  the  press  as  an  efficient 
officer,  watchful  of  American  interests,  and  was 

73 


74  JESUS   DELANEY 

frequently  referred  to  in  the  Mission  Clarion  as 
a  good  friend  of  the  cause,  so  I  had  formed  a 
most  favorable  opinion  of  him.  But  his  appear- 
ance, as  he  came  in,  was  disappointing.  Not 
because  he  wore  a  dirty  pair  of  overalls  and  was 
barefooted  —  he  explained  that  by  his  occupation 
—  but  a  humorless  smile,  or  rather  grin,  which  he 
carried  constantly,  and  a  sort  of  uneasy,  ferrety 
look  in  his  eyes,  gave  me  an  uncomfortable  sense 
of  craft  and  meanness.  My  first  impressions, 
however,  are  often  wrong  —  very  often,  and  I  am, 
on  that  account,  disposed  to  distrust  them. 

He  was  above  the  average  in  height  and  weight, 
had  coarse,  straight,  sandy  hair,  thin,  faded  chin 
whiskers  somewhat  frosted,  and  that  tallowy  skin 
which  is  ever  fertile  of  freckles.  He  was  not 
well-mannered.  He  lacked  dignity  and  made 
too  apparent  a  certain  self-conscious  assumption 
of  good  fellowship. 

During  my  relation  of  the  occurrence  on  the 
plaza  he  kept  grinning  and  nodding  his  head 
wisely,  and  commenting  with  "Ah  !  "  "  Yes !  "  or 
"  O ! "  at  every  sentence,  but  when  he  looked  at 
me  at  all,  it  was  furtively. 

"  And  now,  Consul,  we  want  your  aid,"  said  the 
Reverend  Lamb,  as  I  finished. 

"Ah!      Yes!      Of   course,"   he  replied;    "but 


U.    S.   CONSUL   LEECH 


75 


is  Mr.  —  ah  !  I  mean  —  Reverend  Delaney  —  an 
American?"  He  spoke  with  a  nasal  twang,  at 
times  drawling  his  words  and  again  hurrying 
them,  while  he  never  ceased  to  grin. 

"  No.     He  is  a  Mexican." 

"  Then — ah  !  —  why  —  it  is  no  affair  of  mine  — 
that  is  —  ah  —  officially." 

"  But  can  you  not  help  us  ? " 

"  Ah  !  Yes  !  Of  course,  but  —  you  see  —  not 
officially  —  "  he  paused  and  grinned  us  over  com- 
posedly, then  went  on  —  "If  you  wish  to  engage 
my  services  —  ah  —  of  course,"  he  grinned  con- 
stantly—  in  fact  leered,  it  seemed  to  me. 

Now  I  abominate  indirection;  I  like  a  man  to 
plump  out  what  he  means. 

"  Do  you  mean,  Mr.  Consul,  that  you  are  ready 
to  be  employed  in  this  matter  ? "  I  asked  bluntly. 

"Well,  you  see  —  ah  —  as  an  attorney  and  all 
that  (he  grinned  and  drawled)  I  am  entitled  — " 

"  To  compensation.  How  much  will  it  cost  ?  " 
I  interrupted. 

"  Ah !  Let  me  see."  He  stopped  grinning, 
drew  a  piece  of  paper,  knitted  his  brow,  and  began 
computation.  This  was  evidently  congenial  work. 
He  no  longer  posed.  It  was  the  chance  of  an 
artist  to  catch  the  dominant  character  of  a  face 
that  never  suggested  the  image  and  likeness  of 


76  JESUS   DELANEY 

Him  who  said,  "  Thou  shalt  not  covet  thy  neigh- 
bor's goods." 

"Well,"  he  said  at  last,  "you  had  best  have 
your  statement  drawn  up  formally.  This  I  will 
present  to  the  Governor.  Then  I  will  make  my 
argument  and  —  well  —  I  can't  state  the  exact 
cost,  but  let  us  say  twenty  dollars  down  and  the 
balance,  whatever  it  may  be  —  "  he  was  regaining 
his  grin. 

"  But  please  name  a  maximum,  sir.  I  don't 
want  to  incur  expense  blindly." 

"Well,"  and  he  scanned  me  out  of  his  small  eyes 
as  if  to  see  how  much  I  would  bear,  "  it  may 
reach  fifty  dollars." 

"  I  am  willing  to  pay  fifty  dollars  to  secure  that 
young  man's  release,"  I  said. 

Leech  at  work  was  prompt  and  methodical. 
He  took  down  my  statement  in  English,  which  he 
requested  the  Reverend  Lamb  to  translate  into 
Spanish,  and  in  less  than  an  hour  had  it  signed 
and  sealed  and  was  ready  to  set  out  for  the 
Governor's. 

"  I  will  call  at  your  hotel  as  soon  as  I  have 
definite  news,"  he  said.  I  paid  him  twenty  dollars 
in  advance  and  promised  the  balance  immediately 
on  my  friend's  release.  The  Reverend  Lamb  and 
myself  then  proceeded  to  the  jail.  On  our  way 


U.  S.   CONSUL  LEECH 


77 


we  met  four  policemen,  three  of  whom  had  badly 
battered  faces,  and  the  fourth  a  bandaged  head. 
The  latter  eyed  me  suspiciously,  and  I  have  a 
notion  he  was  the  one  I  gave  the  clip  with  my 
cane. 

Reverend  Lamb's  mastery  of  Spanish  gave  him 
a  more  voluble  audience  with  the  obese  brute 
behind  the  desk,  but  the  result  was  the  same. 
Jesus  was  "incomunicado."  Nobody  could  see 
him  but  the  criminal  judge. 

"  Had  that  officer  yet  appeared  ? " 

"No!" 

"  When  would  he  ? " 

A  shrug. 

"  How  long  would  the  incommunication  last  ?  " 

"Seventy-two  hours." 

"  After  that,  could  we  see  him  ? " 

"  Quien  sabe,"  with  a  shrug. 

We  departed,  going  to  the  hotel,  where  we 
waited  for  Leech,  who  came  within  an  hour.  He 
was  smirking  as  one  thoroughly  satisfied  with 
himself. 

"  Good  news,"  he  said ;  "  I  have  arranged  an 
audience  with  the  Governor  at  two." 

"Is  that  all?"     I  was  disappointed. 

"  Ah !  "  he  grinned,  "  you  cannot  hurry  things 
in  Mexico." 


78  JESUS   DELANEY 

"But  the  man  is  in  jail  and  wounded  —  the 
victim  of  a  gross  outrage." 

"  Ah  !  yes,"  and  he  grinned,  "his  misfortune." 

We  could  neither  see  the  prisoner,  nor  get  any 
satisfactory  account  of  him.  There  was  nothing 
to  be  done. 

I  accompanied  the  Reverend  Lamb  to  the  In- 
stitute. Miss  Anderson  met  us  at  the  door  with  a 
judicial  cast  of  countenance. 

"  Well  ?  "  she  inquired,  and  in  her  deep  voice 
there  was  condemnation  and  command.  It  made 
me  feel  cheap  and  culpable. 

"  We  have  no  news,"  I  said  humbly,  "  but  "  (I 
tried  to  be  cheerful)  "  you  know  no  news  is  good 
news." 

"  I  know  no  such  thing,  sir  !  "  My  cheerful- 
ness congealed. 

"We  have  done  all  we  could." 

"  And  accomplished  nothing  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  I  confessed. 

"  Brother  Lamb,"  she  said  tragically,  "  have  I 
your  permission  to  act  in  this  disgraceful  affair  ?  " 

"  Oh,  certainly !  Certainly,  Miss  Anderson. 
Any  help  you  can  give  us  — " 

"  I  don't  seek  to  be  your  auxiliary,  sir.  I  wish 
to  move  personally  and  independently,"  and  giving 
him  and  me  a  scathing  glance,  she  left. 


U.    S.    CONSUL   LEECH 


79 


"  And  you  tell  me  Jesus  is  to  marry  that 
woman  ? "  I  asked  the  Reverend  Lamb. 

"  Yes." 

"  God  help  him  !  " 

He  did  not  say  Amen,  but  he  really  looked  it. 

Late  in  the  afternoon,  Leech  put  in  an  appear- 
ance, grinning. 

"  Did  you  see  the  Governor  ? " 

"  No,  not  yet,  but  —  " 

"  Then  nothing  has  been  done  ?  "  I  was  dis- 
gusted. 

"  I  have  arranged  to  see  his  Excellency  at  ten 
o'clock  to-morrow  morning." 

"  And  no  way  of  reaching  the  prisoner  until 
then  ? " 

"  No.     He  is  incomunicado.     The  matter  —  ah 

—  is  very  serious,"  he  repeated.     "  I  would  advise 

you  to  retain  a  good  lawyer  —  one  of  influence  — 

say  —  ah  —  Licenciado  Francisco  Benavides.     He 

is  the  Governor's  prospective  son-in-law." 

"I  authorize  you  to  retain  him,"  said  I,  promptly, 
for  I  had  concluded,  with  Leech,  that  the  affair 
was  indeed  serious. 


CHAPTER  XII 

POOR   LUPITA 

AMERICANS  have  not  the  language  faculty  —  at 
least,  they  are  slow  to  learn  Spanish.  I  have  met 
them  ignorant  of  the  language  after  a  residence  in 
Mexico  of  twenty  years.  I  have  met  them  born 
and  raised  on  the  border  and  among  Spanish- 
speaking  people  all  their  lives,  without  acquiring 
it.  And  it  is  a  curious  fact  that  Mexicans  seem 
equally  inapt  in  learning  English.  Not  so,  how- 
ever, other  foreigners.  Germans,  French,  and 
Jews  particularly  are  natural  linguists.  The  aver- 
age German  picks  up  Spanish  in  a  few  months ; 
the  average  Jew  in  a  few  days. 

So,  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  Miss 
Anderson,  after  her  long  residence  in  Alameda, 
could  not  speak  it  fluently.  But  this  did  not  deter 
her  from  setting  out  in  her  own  way  to  accomplish 
the  release  of  Jesus. 

She  reasoned  that  if  the  facts  were  as  stated 
by  the  Reverend  Lamb  and  myself,  all  that  was 
necessary  was  to  place  them  properly  before  the 

80 


POOR   LUPITA  g! 

authorities.  And  this  she  made  up  her  mind  to 
do.  What  she  did  and  what  came  of  it  I  will  here 
set  down,  for  the  facts  all  reached  me  in  time. 

Taking  along  as  her  interpreter,  Lupita,  a 
bright  little  pupil  of  the  Institute,  thirteen  years 
old,  with  the  fresh  pretty  face  of  a  child  and  the 
plump  rounded  figure  of  a  woman,  Miss  Anderson 
went  to  the  jail. 

Here  the  Fat  Official  imparted  the  same  infor- 
mation as  he  had  vouchsafed  to  the  Reverend 
Lamb  and  me.  And  far  from  being  rude  or 
reticent  as  with  us,  he  was  so  very  deferential,  so 
very  considerate,  so  very  profuse  in  his  offers  of 
aid,  in  his  protestations  of  sympathy,  that  Miss 
Anderson  was  not  only  satisfied  Jesus  was  "in- 
comunicado,"  she  was  actually  convinced  that  he 
was  properly  so,  and  that  it  was  a  piece  of  great 
good  fortune  that  he  was  under  the  kindly  care  of 
one  so  eminently  courteous  and  obliging.  If  such 
was  the  influence  of  the  Fat  Official  on  Miss  An- 
derson, deeper  and  stronger  was  the  impression  he 
made  on  Lupita,  who  was  the  interpreter  through 
whom  his  gracious  words  were  spoken.  For, 
while  conveying  all  the  assurances  mentioned  re- 
garding the  condition  of  Jesus  and  his  own  good 
intentions,  he  managed  to  beam  on  the  little  one 
a  gracious,  unctuous,  melting  admiration,  such  as 


82  JESUS   DELANEY 

she  had  never  known  or  dreamt  of.  "  Que  her- 
mosa !  "  (How  beautiful ! )  he  would  sigh  at  the 
end  of  a  sentence,  while  his  big  eyes  stuck  out  of 
baggy  sockets.  "  Hermosisima !  "  he  would  mur- 
mur, until  Lupita's  face  shone  like  burnished 
bronze.  No  wonder  little  Lupita  willingly  pro- 
longed the  interview  !  No  wonder  she  reluctantly 
followed  her  teacher  from  the  jail !  No  wonder 
that,  as  she  went,  she  looked  back  to  drink  again 
the  fervor  of  those  big  eyes  and  thrill  with  kisses 
thrown  from  fat  lips  by  flabby  hands. 

It  was  full  three  squares  on  her  way  homeward 
before  Miss  Anderson  recovered  from  the  Fat  Offi- 
cial's spell  and  bethought  her  of  the  utter  failure 
of  her  mission.  Jesus  was  still  in  jail.  She  had 
done  nothing,  learned  nothing,  was  simply  in- 
thralled  by  the  charming  manners  of  an  underling. 
It  must  not  be.  She  would  try  the  Governor  him- 
self. 

To  the  office  of  his  Excellency  she  went  with 
Lupita.  "  He  is  engaged,"  said  the  secretary. 

"I  will  wait,"  responded  Miss  Anderson,  and 
sat  determinedly  down. 

"  He  may  be  engaged  all  day,"  said  the  secre- 
tary. 

"Tell  him  I  will  wait  all  day,"  said  Miss  Ander- 
son, and  Lupita  so  informed  him. 


POOR  LUPITA  83 

What  a  weazened  wretch  that  secretary  was ! 
With  pen  in  mouth,  bending  over  his  work,  how  much 
he  resembled  some  bird  of  prey !  Thus  thought 
Lupita,  and  her  mind  wandered  back  to  another 
face  and  form,  oh,  so  different,  and  her  eye  wandered 
to  the  door  they  had  just  entered,  and  retraced 
the  way  they  had  just  come  until  —  yes —  there, 
beaming,  melting,  overflowing  still  with  admiration, 
stood  the  Fat  Official.  And  was  it  to  be  wondered 
if  Lupita  started,  reddened,  smiled  —  ay,  threw 
back  with  her  little  hand  the  kiss  thrown  to  her, 
while  Miss  Anderson  firmly  sat  unconscious  of  it  all  ? 

Presently  the  door  of  an  inner  office  opened. 
The  alert  secretary  flew  forward.  There  was  a 
short  conference  and  the  secretary  announced  "  El 
Gobernador." 

Suave,  stately,  benign,  Governor  Romero  ap- 
proached Miss  Anderson.  If  the  Fat  Official  heard 
her  with  considerate  attention,  if  she  was  charmed 
by  the  kindness  and  sympathy  there,  what  must 
have  been  her  experience  with  the  Governor  —  the 
most  gracious,  well-bred,  polished  gentleman  in 
Alameda  ?  Miss  Anderson  left  the  executive  office 
in  a  grateful  glow  of  belief  that  it  was  only  the 
forbearance,  the  beneficent  kindliness  of  his  Ex- 
cellency that  saved  Jesus  from  the  extreme  rigor 
of  the  law. 


84  JESUS  DELANEY 

But  disenchantment  was  again  rapid.  Before 
reaching  the  Institute,  she  was  face  to  face  once 
more  with  the  cold  fact  of  failure.  She  had  sneered 
at  Reverend  Lamb  and  me,  and  here  was  herself 
put  off  with  nice  palaver.  It  must  not  be.  Yet 
another  way  was  open.  She  had  enough  of  Mexi- 
can men  —  she  would  now  try  Mexican  women. 
And  off  she  started  for  the  Governor's  residence. 

Ordinarily,  it  would  have  been  no  easy  matter  to 
gain  access  to  Madam  or  Miss  Romero,  but  there 
are  times  in  all  Republics  when  even  the  families 
of  public  men  are  accessible,  and  fortunately  for 
Miss  Anderson  this  was  such  a  time.  She  was 
received  by  both  ladies  with  marked  kindness. 
She  was  listened  to  not  with  mere  courtesy  — 
there  was  a  real  sympathetic  interest  in  the  anxiety 
of  the  old  lady  and  the  tears  of  the  young. 

"  Hija,  debemos  libertar  ese  joven  caballero," 
said  Madam  Romero. 

"  Este  Vd.  segura,  querida  senora,  que  su  joven 
amigo  sera  pronto  en  libertad.  Yo  se  lo  prometo." 

It  was  the  assurance  of  success,  the  proffer  and 
promise  of  liberty  for  Jesus.  Miss  Anderson  went 
away  in  triumph. 

She  was  so  much  taken  up  with  rejoicing,  she 
did  not  notice  the  Fat  Official  standing  at  the  door 
as  she  came  out,  or  that  he  followed  down  the 


POOR   LUPITA  85 

street,  or  that  he  was  near  when  she  stopped  at 
a  corner  to  watch  a  military  band  go  proudly  by. 
How  gay  their  plumes !  How  glorious  their 
music !  It  did  Miss  Anderson  good  to  see  and 
hear.  But  when  the  band  had  floated  away  in  a 
sea  of  sound  and  color  far  down  the  street  and  she 
turned  to  take  Lupita's  hand,  Lupita  was  gone. 

Up  and  down  searched  Miss  Anderson,  here, 
there,  everywhere,  no  Lupita.  Doubtless  the  child 
had  followed  the  music  and  was  lost. 

*  *  *  *  * 

At  ten  o'clock  that  night,  Lupita  returned  to 
the  Institute.  At  the  same  hour,  the  Fat  Official 
reappeared  at  his  desk.  Poor  Lupita! 


CHAPTER  XIII 

THE    CHALLENGE 

IT  was  the  third  day  after  the  arrest  of  Jesus. 
We  had  not  yet  succeeded  in  seeing  or  hearing 
from  him.  Regularly  morning  and  afternoon  I 
called  at  the  consular  office.  Leech  had  the 
same  story,  a  coming  audience  with  the  Gov- 
ernor. The  Mexican  lawyer,  Licenciado  Bena- 
vides,  was  engaged,  he  said,  but  even  he  could 
do  nothing  professionally  until  the  period  of  in- 
comunicado  had  expired. 

"  Nothing  professional,"  Leech  would  repeat 
and  grin  meaningly.  "  But  I  have  great  hopes 
of  his  influence  with  the  Governor." 

It  was  arranged  that  on  the  evening  of  the  third 
day  we  should  have  a  consultation,  —  Leech,  Bena- 
vides,  the  Reverend  Lamb,  and  myself. 

I  walked  over  to  the  consulate  at  the  appointed 
hour,  and  found  Leech  and  the  Reverend  Lamb 
already  there.  We  waited  full  two  hours  for 
Benavides. 

"  It  is  the  Mexican  way,"  explained  Leech. 
86 


THE   CHALLENGE  ty 

At  last  the  door  opened  and  there  entered  a 
tall,  swarthy  man  with  prominent  teeth,  whom  I 
recognized  instantly  as  the  villain  who  had  struck 
Jesus.  I  arose,  clutching  my  cane. 

"  This  is  Senor  Licenciado  Francisco  Benavides," 
said  Leech,  pompously.  The  Mexican  raised  his 
hat,  bowed  courteously,  and  held  forth  his  hand.  I 
looked  him  straight  in  the  eye  and,  ignoring  the 
proffered  hand,  spoke  out :  "  I  know  this  fellow. 
He  is  the  sneak  who  struck  down  Jesus  Delaney. 
I  refuse  his  acquaintance." 

Knowing  that  I  could  not  restrain  myself  fur- 
ther, I  bowed  to  Leech  and  Lamb  and  left  the  office. 

The  Reverend  Lamb  came  running  after  me. 
He  was  pale  and  excited. 

"  You  know  not  what  you  have  done.  Benavides 
is  the  Governor's  closest  adviser,  and  will  be  his 
son-in-law." 

"  I  don't  give  a  damn  if  he  was  the  President. 
He  is  a  dirty  dog,"  I  said  fiercely. 

I  record  this  unbecoming  language  with  deep 
regret  and  offer  as  apology  the  indignation  that 
had  smouldered  in  my  mind  since  witnessing  the 
cowardly  assault.  It  was  so  unmanly,  so  treach- 
erous —  I  fired  into  flame  at  thought  of  it. 

Just  then,  up  came  Leech.  He  had  lost  his  grin 
and  seemed  frightened. 


88  JESUS  DELANEY 

"  You  must  apologize,"  he  gasped.  "  You  must 
apologize ! " 

"  Apologize !  You,  the  American  consul,  ask 
me  to  apologize  to  such  a  cur  !  "  He  backed  away 
from  me.  I  could  have  flogged  him.  It  was  mean 
enough  in  the  preacher,  but  a  consul ! 

"  I  see  neither  of  you  have  the  instincts  of  a 
gentleman,"  I  said.  "  Good  evening,"  and  I 
walked  from  them  to  my  hotel.  Indignation 
doubtless  had  the  better  of  me,  that  was  plain. 
But  the  damage  was  done.  I  went  to  my  room 
and  tried  to  think  the  matter  over.  What  would 
come  of  it  ?  How  would  it  affect  Jesus  ? 

There  was  a  rap  at  the  door  and  a  boy  entered, 
bearing  this  card  :  — 

RAMON   SANCHEZ  ALATORRE 
GENERAL  DE  BRIGADA 

Who  could  the  party  be  ?     What  did  he  want  ? 

"  Show  him  up,"  I  said  to  the  boy. 

"Que?" 

"  Show  him  up  !  " 

"Que?" 

"  O  !  diga  la  hombre  —  to  —  that  is  —  passe  in 
my  room  —  I  mean  —  in  my  cuarto  —  confound 
the  language." 


THE  CHALLENGE 


89 


The  boy  understood.  In  a  moment  I  heard 
a  heavy  step  ascending  the  stair,  and  soon  a  sharp 
knock. 

"Come  in,"  I  shouted. 

Another  knock. 

"  Ah  !      Passe !     Passe !  " 

The  door  opened  and  there  entered  a  stout, 
elderly  man  of  a  complexion  dark  as  a  negro, 
wearing  a  red-lined  military  cloak,  and  of  elabo- 
rate military  bearing.  He  bowed  ceremoniously 
and  I  motioned  him  to  a  chair.  But  he  remained 
standing. 

"  Soy  el  General  Sanchez  Alatorre,  del  Ejercito 
Mexicano,"  he  said,  speaking  slowly  and  distinctly, 
just  the  way  I  like  to  hear  Spanish  spoken.  He 
was  General  Alatorre  of  the  Mexican  army. 

I  bowed. 

"Vengo,  Seftor,  como  el  amigo  del  Licenciado 
Don  Francisco  Benavides,  y  como  su  enviado 
especial  en  un  asunto  quizas  desagradable."  For 
the  first  time  in  Mexico,  I  understood  every  word 
that  was  spoken.  He  had  come  as  the  friend 
of  Benavides. 

I  bowed  again. 

"  Mi  mision  es  de  exigir  de  Vd.  escusas  y  com- 
pleta  satisfacion  por  insultos  de  que,  con  razon, 
se  queja  mi  principal." 


90  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  Ah  !  He  wants  satisfaction,  does  he  ?  Wants 
an  apology  ?  Say  to  your  friend,  sir  —  " 

"  No  entiendo,  Sefior,"  he  interrupted.  He  did 
not  understand  me. 

"  Diga  to  your  amigo  —  diga  al  Senor  —  he  can 
—  puede  go  to  the  devil !  "  I  was  off  again,  mad 
as  a  hornet. 

"  Que  dice  Vd.,  Sefior,  no  entiendo." 

"  Diga  al  Senor,  I  will  see  him  in  hell  first." 

"  Dispense  Vd.,  Sefior,  no  entiendo  lo  que  Vd. 
me  dice." 

There  was  a  stately  courtesy  about  the  old 
gentleman  as  he  declared  his  inability  to  under- 
stand me  that  must  have  contrasted  with  my  ill 
temper  and  undignified  demeanor. 

"  Diga  al  Sefior  Benavides  que  no  apologize,  no 
doy  satisfacion  —  not  by  a  damned  sight."  He 
understood. 

"  Entonces,  Senor,  en  nombre  del  Licenciado 
Benavides,  tengo  el  honor  de  presentar  a  Vd.  esta 
communicacion.  Buenas  noches,  Caballero,"  and 
handing  me  a  sealed  letter,  he  bowed  himself  out. 
Breaking  the  seal,  I  read  the  following  :  — 

SENOR  :  Hoy,  en  el  Consulado  Americano,  sin  causa  y  sin 
razon,  tuvo  Vd.  la  temeridad  de  dirijirme  un  insulto  lasti- 
mando  gravemente  mi  amor  propio  y  mi  honor  de  caballero. 

Altamente  ofendido  por  tan  rudo  e  indigno  proccder,  he 


THE   CHALLENGE  9! 

comisionado  a  mi  amigo  el  General  Sanchez  Alatorre  para 
que,  en  mi  representacion,  exige  de  Vd.  una  satisfacion  ade- 
cuada  a  la  ofensa. 

En  caso  contrario  (que  no  es  de  esperarse)  puede  Vd. 
mandar  sus  representantes  a  mis  padrinos,  Sres.  General 
Sanchez  Alatorre  y  Corohel  Joaquin  Zuluaga,  quienes  se 
ponen  a  sus  ordenes  en  la  Comandancia  Militar,  Avenida 
Juarez,  No.  15. 

Soy  de  Vd.  Sr.  el  atento  servidor, 

LICENCIADO  FRANCISCO  BENAVIDES. 

I  had  no  trouble  in  translating  it.  It  was  a  chal- 
lenge to  a  duel. 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE    ACCEPTANCE 

I,  WHO  had  been  all  my  life  a  law-abiding  citizen 
and  for  years  President  of  our  Humane  Society, 
challenged  to  fight  a  duel !  It  was  absurd,  and  I 
laughed;  but  it  was  nevertheless  a  fact.  What 
should  I  do?  Accept?  Out  of  the  question. 
Tear  the  challenge  and  go  about  my  business  ? 
That  was  the  simplest  solution  —  certainly  the 
only  proper  course  for  a  man  of  my  character  and 
conscience.  "  But  if  I  do  so,"  I  reasoned,  "  what 
will  that  miserable  creature  think?  Doubtless 
that  I  am  afraid  of  him.  Afraid  of  a  wretch 
who  sneaked  behind  a  man  already  beset  by  a 
mob,  and  struck  him  down?  He  takes  this  way 
of  making  a  reputation  for  courage,  challeng- 
ing a  man  of  sixty !  He  doesn't  know  that 
where  I  came  from  men  are  as  well  preserved  at 
sixty  as  the  average  weazened  Mexican  at  forty. 
I  have  a  mind  to  show  him  that  age  doesn't  un- 
make a  man.  Besides,  such  a  fellow  won't  dare 
fight."  But  of  this  last  I  wasn't  so  sure.  I  re- 

92 


THE  ACCEPTANCE 


93 


called  the  case  of  one  Ed.  Rogers  at  home  who 
was  known  to  be  afraid  of  his  own  shadow,  and 
didn't  resent  the  pulling  of  his  nose,  yet  turned  out 
a  very  dare-devil  on  the  battle-field.  This  Bena- 
vides  might  be  such  another  —  a  poltroon  in  a 
brawl,  desperate  in  a  duel.  Courage  is  an  un- 
known quantity  till  tested.  Thus  I  talked  and 
argued  with  myself,  growing  more  and  more 
irresolute.  It  occurred  to  me  at  last  to  take 
counsel  in  the  matter.  But  with  whom  ?  Not 
Leech,  whining,  white-livered  Leech.  Not  Lamb. 
It  was  no  affair  for  a  minister.  Disturbed  and 
undecided,  I  went  downstairs  into  the  lobby  of 
the  hotel.  No  face  inviting  confidence  was  visi- 
ble. The  bushy-haired  clerk  behind  the  desk,  the 
bushy-haired  porter  perched  on  his  stand,  were  the 
only  occupants  of  the  office.  I  walked  to  the  en- 
trance, and  there,  by  himself,  sat  the  Stubby  Man. 

How  an  emergency  makes  friends !  I  did  not 
know  the  man's  name,  had  never  exchanged  a 
word  with  him,  yet  his  action  at  that  crisis  on  the 
plaza  made  him  seem  a  comrade.  We  shook  hands 
and  I  seated  myself  beside  him. 

"  I  did  not  see  you  after  the  fracas  the  other 
night,"  I  said,  smiling. 

He  nodded. 

"  I  want  to  thank  you  for  standing  by  me." 


94  JESUS  DELANEY 

Another  nod. 

I  waited  for  some  remark,  but  he  was  grimly 
silent. 

"  Have  you  lived  long  in  Mexico  ? "  I  asked. 

"Years."     Another  long  pause. 

"Do  you  know  anything  about  their  duelling 
customs  here  ? " 

"  All." 

"  Did  you  ever  fight  a  duel  yourself  ? " 

"  Three." 

"  Were  they  serious  ? " 

A  shrug.  Everybody  in  Mexico  has  that  shrug ; 
natives  by  instinct,  others  by  example.  You  don't 
like  it  at  first.  But  you  get  used  to  it  and  in  time 
acquire  it  as  an  important  factor  in  conversation. 
Only  the  Mexican,  however,  has  an  easy,  natural 
mastery  of  all  its  varied  meanings. 

"Were  you  ever  injured ? "  I  asked. 

"No!" 

"  O  !    Your  opponents  were  —  " 

"Winged,"  he  paused.  "Lamed,"  a  longer 
pause.  "Pinked,"  I  thought  he  was  through,  but 
after  some  time  he  grunted,  "  respectively." 

Despite  his  reticence  and  jerky  speech,  he  im- 
pressed me  as  a  man  of  good  sense.  Besides,  his 
conduct  on  the  plaza  bore  testimony  to  his  cour- 
age and  loyalty.  Why  not  confide  in  him?  On 


THE   ACCEPTANCE 


95 


the  impulse  of  the  moment,  I  so  decided  and 
handed  him  the  challenge. 

He  read  and  returned  it  without  remark.  I  told 
him  the  whole  story.  But  in  vain  did  I  wait  for 
some  comment.  His  set  face  showed  neither  sym- 
pathy nor  interest.  It  was  discouraging. 

"  What  had  I  best  do  ?  "  I  finally  asked. 

"  'Cept,"  he  answered  promptly. 

"  But  I  am  opposed  on  principle  to  duelling." 

"  Apologize." 

"  Damned  if  I  will !  " 

"  Skip ! " 

"  If  you  mean  that  I  should  leave  this  place  —  " 

"  Country,"  he  grunted. 

"  Leave  the  country,"  I  continued ;  "  I  want  to 
say  that  I  am  an  American  citizen,  have  my  pass- 
port as  such,  and  am  entitled  to  the  protection  of 
the  law." 

"  Law !  "  he  snorted. 

"  Is  there  no  law  here  ? " 

A  shrug. 

"  Well,  sir,  I  will  remain  here  and  test  that." 

I  arose  and  walked  up  and  down,  keeping  time, 
time,  time  to  three  words  that  crowded  all  else 
from  my  mind  and  forced  themselves  upon  me 
pitilessly  :  Accept,  apologize,  skip  !  Accept,  apolo- 
gize, skip  I 


96  JESUS  DELANEY 

Passion  said  accept,  reason  said  skip,  but  let 
me  here  assert  not  once  did  any  craven  instinct 
urge  apology. 

My  imperturbable  friend  sat  and  smoked.  Stop- 
ping before  him  again,  I  humbly  asked  his  best 
judgment. 

"  Accept." 

"  That  means  fight." 

A  shrug. 

"  Doesn't  acceptance  insure  a  meeting  ?  " 

"  No." 

These  monosyllables  became  exasperating.  An 
idea  occurred  to  me. 

"  Say,"  said  I,  "  come  to  my  room  and  we  will 
have  a  small  bottle  together  and  talk  this  matter 
over." 

That  was  a  stroke  of  genius.  A  single  glass 
loosened  his  reluctant  tongue,  and  in  five  minutes 
I  got  more  from  him  than  could  have  been  ex- 
tracted by  the  dry  process  in  five  hours.  In  his 
experience,  there  were  twenty  or  more  challenges 
in  Mexico  to  one  meeting,  fifty  meetings  to  one 
fatality.  Benavides  reckoned  on  my  declining 
and  wanted  the  prestige  of  it.  This  would  sub- 
ject me  to  insult  and  probable  outrage.  A  prompt 
acceptance,  however,  would  force  him  to  show  his 
colors. 


THE  ACCEPTANCE  97 

"  And  even  if  he  fights,  you  can  hold  your  own," 
he  said. 

"  But  I  have  no  skill  with  sword  or  pistol,"  I 
protested.  The  only  weapon  I  had  used  in  years 
was  the  shotgun,  with  which  I  had  a  record  of 
nineteen  clay  pigeons  out  of  twenty,  at  thirty  yards. 

"Make  it  shotguns,  then,  thirty  yards  —  crack 
a  pigeon  —  kill  a  greaser." 

I  shuddered  at  the  bare  possibility.  But  an- 
other bottle  decided  me. 

"  I'll  teach  the  coward  never  to  dare  an  Ameri- 
can," said  I.  To  my  shame  be  it  told,  at  the  dic- 
tation of  the  Stubby  Man,  I  wrote  the  usual  letter 
of  acceptance,  handing  it  to  him  for  delivery  to 
General  Alatorre. 

"You're  a  brick,  old  boy,"  he  said  quite  jovially, 
and  went  on  his  damnable  mission.  A  minute 
afterward,  I  regretted  what  I  had  done.  The 
folly  of  it  seemed  suddenly  plain.  I  started  after 
him.  Which  way  had  he  gone  ?  I  inquired  and 
followed.  I  saw  him  about  a  block  distant  and 
ran  as  rapidly  as  I  could.  Coming  within  a  hun- 
dred feet,  I  hallooed,  for  I  was  nearly  out  of 
breath,  and  he  was  going  fast.  "  Say !  Hi  there  ! 
Whoop !  —  "  a  hand  stopped  me  short.  Two  po- 
licemen stood  there  with  drawn  clubs,  and  the  one 
who  held  me  had  his  head  bandaged.  I  tried  to 


98  JESUS  DELANEY 

explain,  but  excitement  and  breathlessness  lost  me 
what  little  Spanish  I  knew.  In  spite  of  protest 
and  even  proffer  of  money,  I  was  hustled  along  to 
the  jail.  I  had  hopes  for  an  instant,  when  I  men- 
tioned money,  for  one  of  the  fellows  paused  and 
muttered  something  to  the  other  whose  head  was 
bandaged,  but  the  latter  retorted  negatively  and 
fiercely,  and  on  we  went.  At  the  jail,  the  Fat 
Official  entered  my  name  and  a  charge  of  disorderly 
conduct.  I  presented  my  card  and  offered  security. 
But  to  no  purpose.  I  threatened  to  appeal  to  the 
American  consul.  At  the  name,  the  Fat  Official 
laughed.  "  El  Consul  Leech  !  "  he  said  contempt- 
uously. "El  Consul  verde  !  "  He  had  evidently 
no  respect  for  Leech.  By  mere  chance,  I  had 
with  me  my  passport.  It  was  a  formidable  docu- 
ment with  big  seal  and  much  red  tape.  Drawing 
it  from  my  pocket  and  opening  it  slowly  so  that 
all  its  importance  was  displayed,  I  held  it  up  and 
demanded  that  the  consul  be  sent  for.  The  Fat 
Official  was  evidently  impressed.  Perceiving  this, 
I  assumed  a  loftier  dignity  and  proclaimed  my 
determination  to  have  heavy  damages  and  satisfac- 
tion for  the  outrage.  "  Soy  un  ciudadano  Ameri- 
cano, y  estoy  bajo  la  proteccion  del  Presidente  de 
los  Estados  Unidos.  Tenga  Vd.  cuidado  !  "  said 
I,  pointing  to  one  policeman  —  he  shrank  back  — 


THE   ACCEPTANCE 


99 


"y  Vd.  tambien,"  pointing  to  the  other  who  wilted 
—  "y  Usted,  Senor,"  pointing  to  the  Fat  Official, 
and  he  grew  visibly  nervous.  At  each  phrase,  I 
brandished  the  sealed  and  ribboned  passport  The 
Fat  Official  tried  to  explain.  I  waved  him  off. 
"  Esperare"  aqui  hasta  que  venga  el  Consul  Ameri- 
cano," said  I,  imperiously. 

"  Sirvase  Vd.,"  said  the  Fat  Official,  humbly, 
"sirvase  Vd.  esperar  en  este  cuarto."  He  opened 
the  door  of  an  adjoining  room,  and  asked  me  to 
enter,  bowing  as  if  I  were  a  prince.  I  entered, 
and  there,  sitting  complacently,  was  Jesus  Delaney. 


CHAPTER  XV 

RELEASED 

JESUS  looked  up,  sprang  forward,  and  before  I 
could  stop  him  threw  his  arms  round  my  neck 
and  kissed  me  on  both  cheeks.  Now,  I  don't  like 
demonstrative  greetings  or  leave-takings  of  any 
sort,  but  this  special  form  is  offensively  foreign, 
distinctly  and  intolerably  un-American.  Once  on 
an  election  day  at  home,  I  saw  two  drunken 
ticket  peddlers  thus  seal  their  maudlin  admiration, 
and  it  almost  turned  my  stomach.  Jesus  seemed 
to  realize  I  didn't  like  it.  "  Pardon  me,  sir,"  he 
said ;  "  I  am  so  happy." 

There  was  the  outlandishness  of  it  again  - 
smashed  on  the  sconce  and  kept  three  days  in 
jail  for  nothing  —  yet,  because  he  sees  a  man  little 
more  than  a  stranger  to  him,  he  becomes  ecstatic. 
It  flattered  me,  however,  for  it  showed  great  affec- 
tion in  the  fellow. 

"  Happy  !     In  jail  ?  "  I  remonstrated. 

His  face  beamed,  his  eyes  were  glorious. 

100 


RELEASED  IOi 

"  Yes,  to  you  it  is  a  jail,  to  me  it  is  a  holy  place, 
sanctified,  celestial ! " 

Alas !  In  those  restless  eyes  was  the  unmis- 
takable gleam  of  madness. 

"Calm  yourself,  my  poor  boy.  Be  calm.  All 
will  be  well,"  I  said  soothingly. 

"All  is  well.  All  is  heaven  for  me,"  he 
murmured. 

Clearly,  he  was  daft.  That  terrible  blow  on  the 
head  had  overthrown  reason. 

"  Has  Doctor  Medina  called  to  see  you  ? "  I 
asked  anxiously. 

"  No  doctor  has  seen  me.  Do  I  look  as  if  I 
needed  a  doctor  ?  "  He  drew  himself  up,  a  mag- 
nificent model  of  physical  health  and  strength. 
The  thick,  straight  hair  shut  out  any  trace  of  a 
wound.  But  those  eyes  —  how  they  glowed  and 
burned ! 

"  I  am  in  heaven.     In  heaven,"  he  repeated. 

My  God  !  What  a  pity,  thought  I,  such  a  mind 
in  such  a  frame,  blighted  perhaps  forever.  Oh ! 
the  villains  who  had  brought  him  to  this !  I 
sought  to  quiet  him. 

"  Be  calm,  my  boy,  come  sit  down  by  me.  Tell 
me  what  has  happened.  I  am  your  friend.  Do 
not  fear  to  tell  me  all.  Be  calm  —  be  calm." 
An  expression  of  surprise  crossed  his  face. 


102  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  I  did  not  mean  to  tell  anybody.  But  you  are 
my  friend,  are  you  not  ?  You  are  my  friend !  " 
He  seized  both  my  hands  with  a  convulsive  grasp, 
and  as  suddenly  dropped  them. 

"  Yes,  surely,  Jesus,  I  am  your  friend.  Confide 
in  me,  poor  boy." 

"  You  will  understand  my  happiness.  I  know 
you  will." 

Then,  with  that  maniacal  glare  still  in  his  eyes, 
which  he  kept  fixed  on  mine,  he  thrust  his  right 
hand  under  his  vest.  I  became  uneasy.  Had  he 
a  weapon  concealed  ?  "  Be  calm,  my  boy,  be 
calm,"  I  repeated,  eying  him  closely  and  prepared 
for  any  emergency.  Slowly,  ecstatically,  he  drew 
forth,  not  a  weapon,  but  a  small,  dainty-looking 
envelope. 

He  gazed  at  it  a  moment,  then  kissed  it  rap- 
turously, while  I  became  conscious  of  a  faint, 
sweet  perfume.  Taking  from  the  envelope  a  little 
note,  he  handed  it  to  me. 

"  Read,"  he  said  in  low,  trembling  tones. 

I  took  the  note  and  adjusted  my  spectacles.  It 
was  from  Marie  Romero,  the  Governor's  daughter. 
With  delicately  worded  sympathy  she  promised 
his  speedy  release,  and  expressed  the  tender  hope 
that  she  would  see  him  in  person.  That  was  all. 

Yes,  in  truth  Jesus  was  mad,  mad  with  a  lunacy 


RELEASED  IO3 

that  comes  betimes  to  every  son  of  Adam,  to  every 
daughter  of  Eve,  a  lunacy  that  has  its  lights  and 
shades,  its  storm  and  calm,  its  lucid  intervals, — 
the  lunacy  of  love. 

Nature  is  a  marvel  in  Mexico.  It  knows  no 
bounds,  follows  no  course.  It  is  full  of  surprises 
and  excesses.  A  cloudless  day  blackens  at  once 
to  furious  tempest.  Prolonged,  blistering,  gasping 
heat  gives  instant  place  to  chilling  mist.  To-day 
the  plain  lies  parched  and  dead,  to-morrow,  glori- 
ous with  grass  and  flowers.  Thus  material  nature 
—  is  it  so  with  man  ?  I  thought  of  Jesus  as  I  first 
met  him,  gentle,  pious,  absorbed  in  his  divine 
mission ;  then  recalled  that  scene  on  the  plaza 
where  he  stood  defiant,  disfigured,  a  savage.  Now 
here  he  was  again  transformed,  another  being, 
rapturous,  ecstatic,  heart  and  soul  aglow !  And 
why  this  latest  paroxysm  ?  Just  a  scented  note, 
nicely  written,  doubtless,  and  properly  worded,  but 
for  all  that  of  no  consequence,  nothing  to  excite 
any  man  in  his  senses.  It  had  reached  him  shortly 
before  my  arrival,  and  he  was  for  some  reason  at 
once  transferred  from  the  solitary  cell  in  which  he 
had  been  confined,  to  the  comfortable  quarters 
where  I  found  him.  The  writer  was  the  good 
angel  who  wrought  the  change. 

I  could  not  induce  Jesus  to  relate  his  experience. 


104  JESUS   DELANEY 

His  present  happiness  blotted  out  all  recollections 
of  past  unpleasantness.  To  him  the  affair  on  the 
plaza  was  the  most  fortunate  incident  of  his  life. 
"  But  for  that,"  he  asked,  "  what  would  my  life 
have  been  worth  ? " 

"Your  life  didn't  seem  worth  much  as  it  was." 
I  answered  dryly.  "  Have  you  seen  the  Reverend 
Lamb  yet  ?  " 

"  No,  you  are  my  first  visitor." 

"  And  I  am  an  unwilling  one,  in  fact  a  prisoner 
like  yourself."  I  plumped  this  at  him  purposely, 
hoping  the  news  might  startle  him  out  of  his  senti- 
mental dreamland.  It  did.  The  love-light  fled 
from  his  face  and  he  stared  at  me. 

"  You  a  prisoner  ?     What  has  happened  ? " 

I  began  my  story  and  he  listened  breathlessly. 
When  I  got  as  far  as  the  Benavides'  challenge  and 
my  acceptance  he  sprang  to  his  feet. 

"  You  shall  not  fight  him.  It  would  be  wrong," 
I*  e  exclaimed. 

"My  own  opinion  exactly,"  said  I,  glad  to  see 
that  he  took  such  a  sensible  view  of  it. 

I  proceeded  to  relate  how  I  had  reconsidered 
and  tried  to  recall  my  acceptance,  but  failed  to 
catch  the  Stubby  Man. 

"I  am  glad  you  failed,"  he  said. 

"  Glad  I  failed  !     What  do  you  mean  ? " 


RELEASED 


105 


"  I  mean  that  the  fight  is  mine." 

"  Yours ! " 

"Yes,  mine.  He  struck  me  down,  the  coward," 
—  again  there  came  that  ugly  curl  of  the  lip  and 
that  savagery  of  teeth  and  eyes.  "He  must  give 
me  satisfaction  first." 

"You  forget,"  said  I,  remonstrating.  "You 
forget  you  are  a  minister." 

"  I  am  a  Mexican,"  he  answered,  and  his  manner 
was  magnificent. 

"  You  are  a  missionary,"  I  protested. 

"I  am  a  Mexican,"  he  repeated,  "and  know 
what  honor  demands  :  I  will  fight  him." 

"  But  what  will  the  Reverend  Lamb  think  of 
you  if  you  do  ?  " 

"  What  would  she  think  of  me  if  I  did  not  ? " 
and  he  held  up  the  scented  letter  and  kissed  it. 

He  was  soaring  again,  so  I  brought  him  back  to 
solid  ground. 

"  How  would  Miss  Anderson  regard  such^t« 
thing  ? " 

At  the  name  he  started  and  thrust  the  letter 
back  in  his  bosom  with  a  pained  expression.  He 
was  silent.  I  pressed  my  advantage. 

"  They  are  all  anxious  about  you  at  the  Institute. 
Poor  Miss  Anderson  particularly.  Would  it  not  be 
well  to  send  her  word  ?  It  will  greatly  relieve  her." 


I06  JESUS    DELANEY 

He  raised  his  eyes  and  there  was  an  almost  piti- 
able look  in  them. 

"  Are  you  sure,"  he  asked  slowly,  "  Miss  Ander- 
son cares  very  much  ?  " 

"  Why,  of  course,  I  presumed  from  the  relations 
between  you, — 

"  I  do  not  ask  your  presumptions,"  he  interrupted 
almost  rudely.  "  You  spoke  of  her  particularly. 
Did  she,"  and  his  big  eyes  held  me  fast,  "show 
any  particular  feeling  ? " 

"Well,  not  exactly  feeling,  but  —  " 

"I  knew  it,"  he  cried,  "I  knew  it!  she  has 
none ! " 

Evidently  Brother  Lamb  had  not  brought  matters 
as  far  as  he  imagined. 

"  Some  people  don't  show  their  feelings,"  I 
argued,  "  there  can  be  great  goodness  —  " 

"  The  heart  craves  more  than  mere  goodness !  " 
he  burst  out.  "  I  see  it  all  now.  There  is  piety 
that  is  passionless,  religion  that  alienates  nature, 
philanthropy  that  is  sordid."  I  could  not  make 
clear  the  relevancy  of  this,  but  he  was  letting  loose 
on  a  subject  of  which  he  was  full,  and  for  which  I 
had  little  relish.  So  it  was  a  relief  to  me  when  in 
the  midst  of  his  harangue  there  was  heard  the  tread 
of  heavy  feet,  the  clang  of  arms,  and  the  door  sud- 
denly opened  to  usher  in  his  Excellency  Governor 


RELEASED 


lO/ 


Romero.  We  arose.  The  Governor  addressed 
Jesus  in  Spanish,  but  in  a  tone  and  manner  I  knew 
to  be  friendly  and  apologetic,  then  stretched  forth 
his  hand,  which  Jesus  shook  warmly. 

"  Esta  Usted  en  libertad,  Sefior,"  said  the  Gov- 
ernor to  Jesus.  "Venga  Vd.  conmigo."  He 
placed  his  arm  within  that  of  Jesus,  but  the  latter 
drew  back  and  asked  a  question,  pointing  to  me. 
I  understood  him  to  be  stating  my  case  to  his 
Excellency.  He  spoke  rapidly,  energetically,  and 
ended  by  presenting  me.  The  Governor  shook 
my  hand  quite  cordially  ;  I  presented  him  my  card 
and  showed  him  my  passport.  He  glanced  at  both. 

"Vengan,  Caballeros,"  he  said.  "Vengan  am- 
bos  conmigo"  (Come,  gentlemen'!  Come  with  me, 
both  of  you !). 

We  followed  him  out.  His  eye  fell  sternly  on 
the  Fat  Official  and  he  administered  a  fierce  rebuke. 
Then  he  called  for  the  policemen  who  had  arrested 
me. 

"  Adonde  estan  esos  policias  ? "  he  asked.  The 
Fat  Official  humbly  brought  them  in.  They  quailed 
before  the  great  man,  who  scored  them  in  most 
merciless  Spanish. 

"Caballeros,  mi  coche  esta  a  su  disposicion." 
He  insisted  on  our  entering  his  carriage,  which  he 
ordered  driven  to  my  hotel,  where  Jesus  and  my- 


I08  JESUS   DELANEY 

self  left  him  with  mutual  protestations  of  gratitude 
and  esteem. 

Elated  with  the  change  in  my  fortune,  I  took 
the  arm  of  my  young  friend  and  brought  him  to 
my  room.  Jesus  was  very  abstemious  at  the 
Institute,  a  little  claret  was  his  only  indulgence; 
but  on  my  insisting,  he  agreed  to  share  with  me 
the  contents  of  a  delicious  bottle  of  Pommery. 
What  a  wholesome  sound  comes  from  drawing  a 
cork  !  It  is  the  overture  to  the  opera  of  good  fel- 
lowship the  world  over.  We  clinked  and  drained 
a  glorious  glass  and  gazed  at  each  other  in  great 
good  humor.  What  an  escapade  it  had  been  and 
how  happily  ended.  Here  there  was  a  rap  at  the 
door,  and  without  further  ado  in  came  my  for- 
gotten messenger  of  war,  my  prospective  second 
in  a  duel,  the  Stubby  Man.  The  whole  devilish 
difficulty  came  back  to  me. 

"  Well,"  I  asked  anxiously,  "  what  have  you 
done  ? " 

"All." 

"  Did  you  see  General  Alatorre  ?  " 

"  Yes." 

He  was  at  his  damned  monosyllables  again.  I 
could  not  bear  them. 

"Sit  down  here,  man,  and  drink — drink  this." 
I  filled  my  own  glass,  which  he  emptied.  An- 


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109 


other  and  then  another,  Jesus  looking  on  in 
astonishment. 

"  Now  then,"  said  I,  "  tell  your  story." 

He  did,  and  with  an  easy  fluency,  even  flip- 
pancy, that  was  remarkable.  He  had  met  the 
General  and  communicated  my  message.  The 
General  had  taken  exceptions  to  the  weapons  I 
named. 

"  Thank  God  ! "  I  ejaculated. 

"  Referred  to  Article  12  of  the  Code." 

"  Good  !  "  I  exclaimed. 

"  Asked  for  time  to  consult  his  principal." 

"Give  him  time,"  I  said. 

"  He  made  some  reflections,"  he  continued,  "  on 
shotguns,  which  I  took  personally."  Here  the 
Stubby  Man  deliberately  filled  another  glass. 

"  I  asked  for  an  apology  then  and  there.  Same 
was  refused.  Challenge  issued,  accepted,  and 
duel  fixed  for  the  morning  at  six  o'clock."  He 
drank  his  glass  with  calm  composure. 

"  A  duel !  You  to  fight  a  duel  on  such  a  trivial 
cause ! " 

"  Fought  'em  for  trivialler,"  he  replied. 

"  And  to-morrow  morning.  Good  God,  man  ! 
on  the  Sabbath  !  What  do  you  mean  ? " 

"  You  are  to  be  my  second,"  he  answered, 
again  filling  his  glass. 


1 10  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  Never  !  Never !  I'm  done  with  the  whole 
barbarous  business.  I  shall  leave  this  lawless 
country." 

"  Do  you  hesitate  to  do  for  me  what  you  asked 
me  to  do  for  you  ? "  The  Stubby  Man  spoke 
slowly  and  with  dignity. 

This  put  the  matter  in  a  new  light.  I  was 
hesitating  to  answer,  when  up  spoke  Jesus :  — 

"  Excuse  me,  Mr. " 

"  Craig,"  said  the  Stubby  Man. 

"Mr.  Craig,  my  friend  is  an  aged  man.  His 
life  has  made  such  a  duty  as  you  propose  unsuit- 
able and  improper.  But  if  you  must  have  a 
second  under  the  circumstances,  I'll  be  your 
second." 

"So  be  it,"  said  Craig,  promptly;  "let  us  drink 
to  the  bargain." 

I  protested.  "  No !  No !  Young  man.  You 
say  that  such  a  duty  is  unsuitable  and  improper 
for  me,  how  much  more  so  for  you;  you  forget 
what  you  are." 

He  reddened.  "We  argued  that  before  to- 
night. No  use  going  over  the  ground  again. 
Mr.  Craig,  I  will  join  you  in  the  morning." 

Overcome  by  my  feelings  I  could  only  sit  and 
listen  to  them  as  they  talked  over  the  cold-blooded 
details.  Presently  Craig  arose,  shook  hands,  and 


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III 


with  the  remark  that  a  man  whose  life  depends 
on  a  steady  hand  in  the  morning  should  keep  a 
clear  head  at  night,  he  took  his  departure. 

No  argument  could  change  the  resolution  of 
Jesus.  He  made  light  of  all  I  said  and  soon 
retired  to  the  room  adjoining  mine,  which  I  had 
secured  for  him.  I  went  to  bed,  but  could  not 
sleep.  I  felt  my  own  responsibility  for  the  whole 
occurrence;  my  miserable  weakness  had  brought 
it  on ;  this  young  man's  career  would  be  blighted. 
The  more  I  thought  of  the  matter,  the  worse  it 
looked.  Strange  that  it  did  not  occur  to  me  to 
seek  counsel  with  Lamb  or  Leech ;  but  it  didn't. 
Finally  I  sprang  from  my  bed,  determined  to  see 
Jesus  again  and  strive  to  change  him.  I  entered 
his  room,  for  the  door,  as  is  common  in  Mexico, 
was  open.  He  lay  sound  asleep.  The  tropical 
moon  shone  through  the  window,  lighting  up  his 
face  as  with  a  glory.  I  will  never  forget  the 
picture.  He  was  the  only  human  being  I  ever 
saw  who  was  beautiful  in  sleep.  I  could  not 
bring  myself  to  wake  him  and  stole  softly  away. 


CHAPTER  XVI 

THE   DUEL 

ALL  night  I  lay  restless,  and  at  the  first  break  of 
day  sought  the  room  of  Jesus.  Entering  quietly, 
as  I  did  not  know  whether  he  was  yet  awake,  I 
perceived  him  kneeling  by  his  bedside  and  pray- 
ing aloud.  I  caught  the  words  :  "  O  God !  mark 
the  ways  of  Thy  servant  and  make  them  Thine! 
Guide  his  footsteps  to  Thy  throne!  Cause  him 
to  live  as  is  meet  in  Thine  eyes,  whatsoever  the 
murmurings  of  men."  Then  followed  the  Lord's 
Prayer,  fervent  and  pathetic.  I  waited  until 
"  Forgive  us  our  trespasses  as  we  forgive  those 
who  trespass  against  us,"  when  I  placed  my  hands 
on  his  shoulders  and  said  solemnly,  "  Young  man, 
with  those  words  on  your  lips,  can  you  dare  begin 
this  day  as  you  decided  last  night  ?  "  He  rose  as 
I  was  speaking;  the  devout  expression  on  his  face 
deepened  momentarily,  then  gave  way  to  one  of 
gay  good  humor. 

"  Missed  your  vocation.     Ought  to  have  been  a 

112 


THE  DUEL  H3 

preacher,"  was  his  laughing  response,  and  ere  I 
could  rejoin,  in  came  Craig  with  a  small  satchel  in 
one  hand  and  what  seemed  a  long  violin  case  in  the 
other.  He  must  have  had  a  drink  or  two,  for  he 
was  in  high  feather  and  talkative. 

"  Morning !  No  weapons  named  last  night,  so 
brought  pops,  "  holding  up  the  little  satchel,  "  and 
prickers,"  holding  up  the  long  case.  Here  were 
the  instruments  of  death.  I  shuddered  at  the  sight 
of  them  and  was  speechless. 

"  Just  time  get  cup  coffee,"  he  continued,  "  and 
drive  grounds.  Doctor  Bradley  downstairs  wait- 
ing. Let's  go." 

Off  they  started.     In  mute  protest  I  followed. 

In  the  hotel  lobby,  Doctor  Bradley,  a  distin- 
guished-looking man,  joined  us,  and  after  a  hasty 
cup  of  coffee  we  rode  to  the  appointed  place. 
Along  the  route  all  three  laughed  and  joked,  heed- 
less of  their  mission  or  of  me,  and  on  alighting 
were  indifferent  to  a  sight  that  chilled  my  blood. 
Two  men  with  pale  faces  were  bearing  from  the 
field  a  corpse. 

"  Some  early  bird,"  remarked  Craig. 

"Whom  the  worms  have  caught,"  said  the 
Doctor. 

We  walked  a  short  distance  and  came  in  sight 
of  a  party  of  four,  among  whom  I  recognized  the 


H4  JESUS   DELANEY 

General  and  Benavides.  The  latter  started  toward 
us. 

"  That  tall  man  approaching  is  Benavides," 
said  I  to  Jesus.  He  gave  a  quick  glance  and  his 
face  hardened. 

"  He's  the  second,"  said  Craig.  "  Meet  him. 
Make  it  pistols,  any  distance,  or  swords.  Leave 
all  him." 

Jesus  advanced  until  they  met,  and  both  bowed 
ceremoniously.  There  was  a  short  conference, 
and  Jesus  returned. 

"  Pistols,"  he  said,  "  twenty  paces." 

The  ground  was  measured  with  deliberate  care, 
and  weapons  examined.  Every  move  of  the  dread 
drama  was  to  me  a  horrible  nightmare,  but  Jesus 
was  as  calm  and  collected  as  if  duelling  had  been 
taught  him  at  the  Institute.  I  swear  he  seemed  to 
enjoy  it.  At  last  the  men  were  placed,  the  word 
given,  and  the  shots  rang  out.  I  saw  Craig  clasp 
his  hand  to  the  side  of  his  head,  and  I  ran  to  him. 

"  Are  you  hurt  ? " 

"No!"  he  answered.  "T'other  fellow."  His 
opponent  was  down.  A  dark  red  mark  told  where 
the  bullet  singed  along  Craig's  temple. 

Benavides  came  forward. 

"  My  principal  is  wounded,"  said  he  in  English, 
addressing  Jesus.  "  His  honor  is  satisfied." 


THE   DUEL  II5 

Jesus  bowed. 

"  So  the  affair  of  our  friends  is  concluded,"  said 
Benavides,  smiling  and  extending  his  hand. 

"  The  affair  of  our  friends,  yes,"  said  Jesus ; 
"  but  have  not  you  and  I  a  little  matter  to  adjust  ?" 

Benavides  looked  astonished.  "  I  have  never 
met  you  before,  sir,"  he  answered. 

"Not  to  my  face,"  said  Jesus,  his  eyes  ablaze; 
"  but  you  came  behind  my  back  on  last  Wednes- 
day night  at  the  plaza,  like  a  coward,  and  struck 
me  down.  Blow  for  blow !  "  It  was  only  the  open 
palm,  but  so  lustily  Benavides  almost  fell. 

Here  was  another  horror. 

We  saw  Benavides  consulting  with  his  friends. 
Then  one  of  the  latter  advanced. 

"  Act  for  me,"  said  Jesus  to  Craig. 

"  Turn  about,"  said  Craig,  and  went  to  meet  the 
emissary.  In  a  few  seconds  he  returned. 

"  Challenged  fight  immediately,"  said  he.  "  Name 
weapons." 

"  Say  to  his  second  that  if  his  principal  agrees 
to  a  peaceful  settlement  of  the  affair  with  my 
friend  here  without  apology,  I  will  give  him  the 
choice  of  weapons." 

This  was  said  to  Craig  in  a  low  tone  and  in 
Spanish,  so  that  I  did  not  know  the  purport  till 
afterward.  The  seconds  consulted  again,  and 


!l6  JESUS   DELANEY 

shortly  Craig  announced  the  conditions  accepted 
and  swords  the  weapons. 

Whistling  a  lively  air  he  opened  the  long  case. 
There  were  three  swords  in  it.  "  Look,  Jesus ! 
Butes  !  "  he  said. 

Picking  up  each  in  turn,  Jesus  scanned  it 
closely  and  in  a  moment  announced  his  choice. 
I  saw  Benavides,  his  coat  and  vest  removed  and 
his  right  arm  bare  to  the  elbow,  whirling  his 
sword  and  flashing  it  right  and  left.  He  was 
evidently  an  expert.  A  great  fear  came  on 
me. 

"  Jesus,"  I  cried,  "  you  must  not  fight !  Craig, 
this  is  murder.  The  boy  knows  — 

"  His  own  business,"  interrupted  Craig.  "  Look ! " 
He  pointed  to  Jesus,  who  had  also  bared  his  arm 
and  was  making  his  weapon  writhe  and  dart  and 
hiss  like  a  fiery  serpent. 

"  My  aged  friend,  you  are  in  Mexico.  Don't 
forget  it." 

As  if  I  were  likely  to  forget  it ! 

At  a  signal  the  contestants  advanced,  saluted, 
lowered  their  weapons  and  stood  in  position. 

A  quick  question,  a  joint  response,  and  steel  met 
steel.  Both  were  masters.  Both  were  matched. 
Benavides  had  the  advantage  in  practice,  Jesus  in 
strength.  Benavides  was  fighting  to  kill.  There 


THE  DUEL  nj 

was  malice,  hate,  murder,  in  every  stroke.  Jesus 
was  fighting  for  God  knows  what,  maybe  revenge, 
maybe  for  my  sake,  maybe  there  were  thoughts  of 
a  sefiorita  whose  little  scented  letter  lay  on  his 
heart;  but  whatever  nerved  him,  he  was  calm, 
swift,  confident.  His  handsome  face,  glowing 
eyes,  and  graceful,  chivalrous  bearing  were  sub- 
lime. Now  there  is  an  animal  in  every  man  that 
loves  a  fight ;  in  me  it  is  an  animal  of  fairly  good 
development,  and  it  soon  was  roused.  Every 
stroke  gave  me  a  thrill.  Once  such  terrible  joy 
upbounded  in  my  soul  when  Jesus  seemed  gaining 
a  slight  advantage  that  I  could  no  longer  hold 
myself,  and  I  shouted  at  the  top  of  my  voice, 
"  Give  it  to  him,  Jesus  !  Pink  him !  " 

There  was  a  deep  murmur  among  the  Mexicans, 
and  Craig  and  the  Doctor  both  rebuked  me.  I 
had  to  watch  the  fight  in  silence,  every  nerve 
strained  to  an  awful  tension.  It  was  give  and 
take  with  honors  even.  At  last  Benavides  played 
a  low,  unmanly  trick.  Feigning  exhaustion,  he 
retreated  slowly,  step  by  step,  until  he  seemed 
almost  to  yield,  when  suddenly  he  leaped  to  one 
side  and  Jesus,  taken  by  surprise,  was  stabbed 
deeply  in  the  sword  arm.  I  saw  the  red  blood 
spurt.  The  seconds  sprang  forward  and  separated 
the  combatants. 


US  JESUS  DELANEY 

Tears  came  into  my  eyes;  I  could  have  blubbered 
like  a  baby. 

"You  are  wounded,  my  poor  boy."  He  was 
pale. 

"  Only  a  scratch,"  he  said.  "  Bind  it  with  my 
handkerchief.  Quick !  "  Doctor  Bradley  sought 
to  make  an  examination,  but  he  repulsed  him. 

Here  Craig  approached.  "  Other  side  satisfied 
if  you  are.  Let's  call  it  off." 

"  Not  yet,"  said  Jesus,  and  there  and  then  his 
face  took  on  that  fierce,  ugly  look,  just  as  it  did 
when  on  the  plaza  I  told  him  to  yield. 

"  But,  man,  you  can't  use  that  arm." 

"  I  have  two  arms,"  he  said,  grasping  his  sword 
with  his  left  hand. 

"  Well,  you're  boss,"  said  Craig,  and  returned. 

I  beseeched  Jesus  to  quit ;  as  well  have  pleaded 
with  a  panther.  He  was  no  more  the  missionary, 
mild  and  amiable ;  the  glittering  eyes,  the  teeth 
gleaming  below  the  upcurled  lip,  the  deadly,  de- 
moniac look  proclaimed  the  savage. 

Once  more  the  men  were  placed  and  the  word 
given. 

Benavides  now  seemed  to  have  the  battle  to 
himself.  He  was  clearly  on  the  offensive,  and 
several  vicious  lunges  he  made,  almost  reached 
their  aim.  Fierce  with  the  black  hate  of  a  bad 


THE  DUEL 

heart,  he  had  already  an  air  of  a  merciless  tri- 
umph. It  remained  but  to  finish  his  foe.  Yet 
every  effort  failed.  Jesus  had  a  left  nearly  as 
good  as  his  right,  and  its  swordsmanship  was 
more  deceptive.  After  a  succession  of  desperate 
strokes  and  stabs,  the  sword  of  Benavides  flew 
from  his  grasp.  Let  me  here  admit  that  for  a 
coward  Benavides  showed  great  courage.  Fold- 
ing his  arms  he  looked  Jesus  full  defiance.  And 
Jesus,  —  I  hate  to  write  it,  —  but  I  could  not  help 
seeing  the  triumph  in  his  face  take  on  a  sudden, 
sheer  ferocity.  He  glared  without  pity  at  his 
weaponless  foe,  and  raised  his  arm  for  the  death 
stroke. 

"  My  God,  man,  don't !  "  I  cried.  But  I  would 
have  spoken  in  vain  had  not  Craig  with  a  swift 
leap  stayed  the  uplifted  arm. 


CHAPTER   XVII 

WE   BREAKFAST 

"A  FEW  years  ago,"  said  Doctor  Bradley,  as  he 
proceeded  to  wash  and  dress  the  wounded  arm, 
"  a  cut  like  this  would  have  been  troublesome, 
now  with  antiseptic  treatment  there  is  little  or  no 
danger.  It  will  heal  within  a  few  days." 

"There,"  said  Craig  to  me  in  an  undertone,  "is 
one  who  formerly  ranked  at  the  head  of  his  pro- 
fession in  Philadelphia." 

"  Travelling  in  Mexico  ?  " 

"No;  settled." 

"  Why  did  he  leave  Philadelphia  ? " 

"  Skipped." 

I  inquired  no  further.  Many  an  American's 
residence  in  Mexico  is  shadowed  with  that  sugges- 
tive word.  Some  woman  or  some  trust  betrayed, 
menace  of  exposure,  dread  of  punishment,  the 
wretch  takes  refuge  in  exile. 

We  breakfasted  together,  for  it  was  yet  early  in 
the  day  when  we  reached  the  hotel.  I  had  been 
informed  of  the  condition  of  the  last  duel,  and  how 

120 


WE   BREAKFAST  I2i 

it  relieved  me  of  any  concern  for  myself.  I  con- 
fess it  helped  my  appetite.  Not  that  I  was  afraid; 
I  fear  no  man  —  not  I.  It  was  inborn  principle 
that  revolted  against  this  monstrous  method  of 
settling  difficulties  between  man  and  man. 

It  was  pleasing  to  me  and  edifying,  too,  in  view 
of  the  events  of  the  day,  to  see  that  Jesus,  when 
the  meal  was  set  before  us,  did  not  forget  his  pious 
teachings.  The  Doctor  was  chatting  freely  as  he 
adjusted  his  napkin,  Craig  had  already  seized  knife 
and  fork,  and  I  myself  was  about  to  begin,  when  my 
eye  was  caught  by  a  pleading  look  from  the  lad. 
It  was  a  comprehensive  look,  for  it  affected  the 
Doctor  and  even  Craig  as  it  did  me,  and  without 
a  word  we  bowed  our  heads.  Jesus  said  grace. 

"  You're  not  hardened  to  Mexican  dishes  yet,  I 
see,"  said  Doctor  Bradley  to  me.  I  was  turning 
over  curiously  a  greenish  compound  of  some  sort. 

"  Don't  be  afraid ;  it's  better  than  it  looks." 

"  It's  delicious,"  said  Jesus,  taking  a  huge 
mouthful. 

"  Good  ! "  urged  Craig,  and  thus  encouraged  I 
took  a  little  of  the  stuff  on  my  fork  and  dubiously 
tried  it.  For  a  full  minute  my  mouth  was  a  fur- 
nace. What  would  have  happened  had  I  not 
spat  the  fiery  morsel  on  my  plate  ?  The  others 
laughed. 


122  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  You  will  like  it  in  time,"  said  the  Doctor. 

"  Never  !  "  I  gasped.  (But  as  a  matter  of  fact 
I  have  grown  since  to  a  real  fondness  for  chili 
verde.) 

Before  the  meal  was  finished  the  waiter  handed 
me  an  elaborate  envelope,  which  I  found  to  con- 
tain a  formal  invitation  to  a  dinner  from  Governor 
Romero.  I  handed  it  to  Jesus,  by  whom  it  was 
more  fully  translated. 

"  I  am  sorry  he  didn't  include  you  in  the  invita- 
tion," said  I. 

"  A  poor  teacher  in  a  Mission  School  is  not  a 
suitable  guest  for  a  governor,"  he  replied,  with  a 
bitterness  in  the  voice  very  unusual. 

"  Speaking  of  the  Mission  School,  I  think  it 
may  be  as  well  to  keep  from  the  Reverend  Lamb 
all  knowledge  of  to-day's  episode." 

"  Oh !  he'll  hear  of  it ;  some  one  will  be  sure  to 
tell  him." 

"Then  I  had  best  be  the  one,"  said  I,  "and 
the  sooner  the  better." 

So  I  accompanied  Jesus  to  the  Institute. 

On  the  way  we  met  Consul  Leech,  who  greeted 
us  effusively. 

"  Didn't  I  bring  the  Governor  to  time  ? "  he  ex- 
claimed, grinning.  "  And  two  birds  with  one  stone, 
as  it  were  ? "  and  he  forced  an  unpleasant  laugh. 


WE   BREAKFAST 


123 


"  When  did  you  see  the  Governor  ?  "  I  asked. 

"I  did  not  see  him,"  he  grinned.  "Immedi- 
ately on  receipt  of  your  message  last  night,  an- 
nouncing your  arrest,  I  drove  to  his  house.  He 
was  not  in.  But  I  left  him  a  strong  appeal 
for  you  and  our  friend  Jesus.  I  did  not  expect 
such  prompt  compliance ;  but  I  tell  you  I  made  it 
strong,"  he  grinned.  "  I  made  it  very  strong,  and 
I  got  there  all  right !  I  got  there !  "  He  chuckled 
as  if  thoroughly  convinced  that  he  was  a  down- 
right good  fellow  as  well  as  a  model  consul.  I 
had  great  doubts  even  then  whether  his  appeal, 
strong  as  it  was,  had  played  any  part  whatever  in 
our  release,  nor  was  I  surprised  when  subsequently 
informed  by  the  Governor  himself  that  the  Consul's 
appeal  was  merely  a  letter  asking  for  an  interview, 
and  that  the  letter  did  not  reach  him  until  the  day 
after  our  release. 

Nevertheless  a  leading  New  York  paper  (of 
which  Leech  was  a  frequent  correspondent)  came 
out  a  week  or  so  later  with  big  head-lines  :  — 

PLUCKY  CONSUL  LEECH  !  BEARDS  THE  MEXICAN 
LION  IN  HIS  DEN  !  DEMANDS  THE  RELEASE  OF 
AN  AMERICAN  CITIZEN  IMPRISONED  AT  ALAMEDA. 
PLEADS  FOR  AN  IMPRISONED  PROTESTANT  MINIS- 
TER !  LIBERATES  BOTH  ! ! ! 


124  JESUS   DELANEY 

Then  followed  a  much-distorted  and  sensational 
account,  in  which  Jesus  and  myself  were  the 
merest  satellites  of  the  consular  luminary  Leech. 

Oh  dear !  of  what  shoddy  stuff  reputations  are 
made  !  If  I  were  Secretary  of  State  for  one  hour, 
I  would  twist  the  useless  necks  of  nine-tenths  of 
these  Leeches  —  but  why  talk  ! 


CHAPTER   XVIII 

REAPPEARANCE   OF    DOCTOR   MEDINA 

JESUS  was  cordially  welcomed  at  the  Institute. 
Reverend  Lamb  expressed  his  thanksgiving  in 
prayer.  Nos.  I,  2,  and  3  snivelled  and  snickered 
by  turns.  Miss  Anderson  extended  her  hand, 
shrivelled  and  tentacular,  and  hoped  his  experi- 
ence would  be  a  lesson  to  him. 

"  And  to  you,"  she  added,  looking  hard  at  me. 

"  Were  you  severely  wounded  ?  "  she  asked. 

"  No ;  only  a  mere  scratch  on  the  arm." 

"  On  the  arm !  He  told  me  on  the  head  !  "  and 
she  turned  on  me  once  more. 

I  was  saved  from  explanation  by  the  entrance 
of  Mrs.  Lamb,  who  embraced  Jesus  with  genuine 
affection.  Had  he  been  her  son  she  could  not 
have  shown  more  joy  or  pride.  All  was  congratu- 
lation and  rejoicing,  even  among  the  servants.  I 
observed  Antonio  run  in  rubbing  his  hands  and 
shaking  his  head,  look  at  Jesus,  and  laughing  glee- 
fully dart  out,  then  in  a  few  seconds  reappear  to 

125 


126  JESUS   DELANEY 

go  through  the  same  pantomime.  He  seemed 
beside  himself,  and  I  was  wondering  how  he  could 
be  calmed,  when  a  vagrant  cat  which  was  the 
object  of  his  vigilant  animosity,  because  it  preyed 
on  his  feathered  pets,  happened  to  appear  in  the 
patio ;  he  became  absorbed  in  the  relentless  chase 
that  ensued. 

As  soon  as  I  could  take  the  Reverend  Lamb 
aside  I  told  the  story  of  the  duel,  putting  as 
favorable  a  phase  on  it  as  possible.  He  was  not 
shocked  nor  seemingly  sorry.  On  the  contrary, 
just  as  had  happened  when  I  told  him  of  the 
arrest,  he  appeared  involuntarily  to  beam  with 
satisfaction.  Again  he  must  have  observed  my 
surprise;  for  there  was  a  quick  twitching  of  the 
facial  muscles,  settling  at  last  into  clerical  solem- 
nity. 

"  Ah,  an  unfortunate  affair !  An  unfortunate 
affair  !  "  he  ejaculated. 

"  But  unavoidable,"  I  urged. 

"  I  fear  its  effect  on  our  work.  Benavides  is  a 
power  in  Alameda." 

"  But  Benavides  is  satisfied.  He  ought  to  be. 
He  came  out  without  a  scratch." 

"  Yes,  by  the  magnanimity  of  Jesus  —  that  very 
fact  will  be  galling  to  his  pride."  I  hadn't  told 
the  Reverend  Lamb  how  little  of  magnanimity 


REAPPEARANCE   OF   DOCTOR   MEDINA 


127 


his  pupil  had  displayed.  It  could  do  no  good. 
But  I  assured  him  that  the  trouble  was  over. 

"  Well,  we  will  see,  we  will  see ;  we  must  make 
the  best  of  it." 

Here  the  Reverend  Lamb  was  interrupted  by 
the  entry  of  Jesus,  who  with  joyful  gesture  held 
up  for  our  inspection  a  letter.  It  was  an  invita- 
tion he  had  just  received  to  dine  with  Governor 
Romero. 

It  came  most  seasonably,  bringing  happiness  to 
the  heart  of  Jesus  and  relieving  the  misgivings  of 
the  Reverend  Lamb.  For  favor  with  the  Gov- 
ernor meant  peace  with  his  son-in-law. 

"Come,  Jesus,  come  both  of  you;  let  us  to 
prayer  meeting.  We  have  special  cause  this  day 
to  give  praise  to  Him  'from  whom  all  blessings 
flow.' " 

It  was  the  Sunday  morning  meeting.  In  the 
little  church  the  teachers  were  all  gathered,  Miss 
Anderson  at  the  organ  with  the  larger  pupils,  and 
some  fifteen  or  twenty  whom  the  Reverend  Lamb 
informed  me  were  converts  from  Rome.  Near 
the  door  sat  a  woman  in  deep  mourning,  who 
when  Jesus  entered  fell  on  her  knees  and  bowed 
her  head,  sobbing.  It  was  his  mother.  But  he 
did  not  see  her. 

With  the  exception  of  a   few   respectable   old 


128  JESUS   DELANEY 

ladies  who  sat  apart  with  Mrs.  Lamb,  most  of 
the  converts  impressed  me  unfavorably.  There 
were  stupid  faces  among  them,  and  some  I 
would  not  care  to  meet  on  a  lonesome  road; 
but  you  can't  judge  by  appearances.  I  know  a 
most  exemplary  member  of  my  own  congregation 
who  always  reminds  me  of  Captain  Kidd.  Be- 
sides, if  these  converts  were  as  bad  as  they 
looked,  all  the  more  remarkable  their  conversion. 
There  was  a  long  Spanish  prayer  by  the  Rever- 
end Lamb  and  a  hymn  in  Spanish.  Then  followed 
a  prayer  by  Jesus,  which  seemed  to  reach  the 
hearts  of  all  by  its  intensity.  Could  this  be  the 
same  face  I  had  seen  but  a  few  hours  before, 
cruel,  devilish  —  incarnate  ferocity  ?  The  sweet- 
ness, the  lovableness,  the  trustful  innocent  charm 
of  it!  And  the  voice  round,  full,  resonant,  a 
tender,  touching  music  in  every  tone,  and  the 
eyes  alight  with  faith  and  the  simple  candor  of 
a  child !  Could  it  be  the  same  ?  At  the  close 
of  the  prayer  by  Jesus  there  was  another  hymn, 
and  then  a  well-dressed  man  in  front  whom  I 
had  noticed  among  the  converts,  but  whose  face 
I  did  not  see,  arose  to  pray.  I  recognized  Doc- 
tor Medina.  He  prayed  in  English.  I  had  had 
doubts  of  him  from  his  failure  to  see  Jesus  or 
report  to  me  at  the  hotel,  but  his  present  ap- 


REAPPEARANCE  OF  DOCTOR  MEDINA   129 

pearance  and  the  prayer  removed  them.  He 
was  the  personification  of  piety.  Those  deep- 
brown,  honest,  soulful  eyes  uplifted,  lips  quiv- 
ering and  voice  vibrating  with  pathos,  he  be- 
seeched  God  to  deliver  his  countrymen  from  the 
errors  of  Rome.  He  thanked  Him  for  the  Insti- 
tute and  the  great  good  wrought  by  its  teachers. 
He  thanked  Him  particularly  for  the  Reverend 
Lamb.  Then  he  referred  to  Jesus  and  his  re- 
cent trial.  Tenderly,  delicately,  ever  more  feel- 
ingly until  his  heart  overflowed  and  tears  rolled 
down  his  cheeks.  Teachers,  pupils,  converts,  were 
overcome,  while  Jesus  himself  sobbed  aloud.  It 
was  the  climax  of  the  meeting.  I  doubt  if  many 
heard  the  sweetly  sung  hymn  that  brought  the 
services  to  a  close. 

"  That  prayer  of  Doctor  Medina  was  the  most 
affecting  I  ever  listened  to,"  said  I  to  Jesus,  as 
we  were  passing  out. 

"  Doctor  Medina  ?  Whom  do  you  mean  ?  "  he 
answered  in  a  surprised  tone. 

"Why,  is  not  that  Doctor  Medina  ?  "  I  inquired, 
pointing  to  him. 

"Doctor  Medina!  No!  That's  Brother  Baez, 
one  of  the  Reverend  Lamb's  recent  converts. 
He  was  once  a  priest,  but  recanted  Romanism 
and  became  —  " 


1 30  JESUS  DELANEY 

"  A  confidence  man,"  I  blurted  out  excitedly, 
and  told  my  experience.  "  Here  is  his  card." 
The  fellow  evidently  remembered  me,  for  before 
I  could  get  to  him  he  slunk  out  of  the  room. 

Jesus  looked  mortified.  "  You  must  tell  this  to 
the  Reverend  Lamb.  He  ought  to  be  exposed." 

I  told  the  Reverend  Lamb.  He  raised  his 
eyes  and  displayed  the  first  genuine  feeling  I 
had  noticed  in  him,  as  he  muttered,  half  to 
himself, — 

"Heavenly  Father,  is  there  an  honest  man 
among  them?" 


CHAPTER  XIX 

THE   TRANSFORMATION 

DESIROUS  of  making  a  good  impression  on  the 
occasion  of  the  Governor's  dinner,  I  made  care- 
ful inquiry  regarding  such  affairs  and  informed 
myself  fully  on  every  detail  of  dress  and  eti- 
quette. I  also  applied  with  much  zeal  to  that 
portion  of  "Spanish  at  a  Gulp"  which  covered 
conversation  at  table.  I  found  it  hard  work,  yet 
managed  to  acquire  an  easy  mastery  of  quite 
a  number  of  necessary  phrases  and  sentences, 
such  as:  "  Mucho  me  alegro  de  ver  a  Usted, 
Sirvase  Usted  pasar  el  pan,  Puedo  ofrecer  a 
Usted  la  mantequilla?  Permite  que  le  llene  el 
vaso." 

I  tried  one  or  two  of  these  with  questionable 
success  on  the  hotel  waiter.  He  was,  however,  a 
stupid  fellow  and  probably  hard  of  hearing,  for  I 
had  to  repeat  and  re-repeat,  so  that  the  fine  effect 
was  destroyed.  But  the  proprietor  of  the  hotel, 
whose  aid  I  also  sought,  assured  me  most  sol- 


132  JESUS  DELANEY 

emnly  that  my  pronunciation  was  perfect  and 
that  I  would  readily  pass  for  a  Castilian. 

So  I  had  every  confidence  of  carrying  myself 
becomingly.  I  was  worried,  however,  about  Jesus. 
The  Institute  afforded  sad  training  for  such  func- 
tions, and  I  feared  that  his  social  experience  at 
college  was  little  better.  True,  he  had  that  gra- 
cious gentleness,  the  soul  of  courtesy,  which  seems 
to  follow  the  slightest  strain  of  Spanish  blood, 
and  he  was  a  graceful,  well-built,  handsome  fellow. 
Even  these  advantages,  however,  require  certain 
touches  and  trimmings  which  are  not  born  with  a 
man  and  can  only  be  acquired  by  experience.  I 
remember  how  long  it  took  me  at  the  Naval 
Academy  to  wear  off  the  crude  edges  and  awk- 
ward ways  of  the  country.  It  was  near  the  close 
of  my  last  term  before  I  felt  at  ease. 

Poor  Jesus  was  not  what  you  would  call  clerical 
looking,  but  he  usually  wore  a  sort  of  uniform  pro- 
cured by  Reverend  Lamb  which  was  sombre  and 
dull.  If  he  had  no  better,  and  of  course  he  hadn't, 
it  would  really  be  embarrassing. 

Such  were  my  thoughts  of  him  as  I  started 
leisurely  to  dress  for  the  dinner.  Good  clothes 
are  the  complement  of  the  gentleman.  Nobody 
despises  foppery  more  than  I ;  but  nobody  takes  a 
more  honest  satisfaction  in  being  well  dressed,  and, 


THE   TRANSFORMATION 


133 


if  I  must  say  it,  advancing  years  have  only  rounded 
my  figure  to  that  comfortable  fulness  which  so 
well  becomes  a  dress  suit. 

Properly  and  elaborately  apparelled  after  much 
effort,  I  was  contemplating  myself  in  the  mirror 
and  reflecting  how  much  it  was  to  be  regretted 
that  I  had  not  another  such  outfit  for  Jesus,  when 
a  soft  tap  at  the  door  announced  him.  He  entered. 
Alas !  he  was  in  his  everyday  Institute  cos- 
tume !  If  anything,  it  seemed  duller  and  shabbier 
than  usual.  It  was  too  bad.  But  of  course  I 
made  no  comment.  It  wasn't  the  poor  lad's 
fault. 

"Dressed  already,  I  see,"  he  said,  evidently 
struck  with  my  appearance. 

"Yes;  just  a  few  duds,"  said  I,  almost  apolo- 
getically. 

"  There  is  plenty  of  time,  is  there  not  ? " 

"  Oh  !  ample  time." 

"  Passe !  Passe  !  Senor !  "  he  called  aloud,  and 
to  my  surprise  a  mozo  entered  carrying  two  huge 
bundles. 

"  These  are  mine,"  said  Jesus.  "  May  I  take  the 
liberty  of  using  your  room  ? " 

"  Oh  !  certainly,  certainly !  But  what  have  you 
there  ? " 

"  Just  a  few  duds,"  said  he,  laughing,  and  open- 


JESUS   DELANEY 

ing  a  bundle,  he  held  up  for  my  inspection,  of  all 
things,  a  new  dress  suit. 

The  other  bundle  disclosed  hat  box  with  silk  hat, 
patent  leather  pumps,  stockings,  collars,  cuffs,  ties, 
studs,  as  complete  an  assortment  as  I  had  myself. 

"  It  comes  high,"  said  Jesus,  "but  I  had  to  have 
it.  May  I  dress  here  ?  " 

"  Certainly,"  and  at  the  word  he  flung  off  his 
clerical-looking  clothes  and  stood  before  me  with- 
out a  stitch  on  him. 

Travellers  in  lands  inhabited  by  dark-skinned 
people  have  told  us  how  different  from  ours  are 
their  ideas  of  decency.  Exposure,  which  at  home 
would  shock  the  most  brazen,  is  there  looked  on  as 
a  matter  of  course.  Climate,  you  say?  ,Not  at  all. 
Japan  is  in  the  north  temperate  zone,  yet  there  the 
sexes  mingle  indiscriminately  in  the  public  baths. 

Has  not  color  something  to  do  with  it  ?  Light- 
haired  playmates  of  mine  in  boyhood  always  seemed 
more  sensitive  than  dark  haired,  the  brunette  bolder 
than  the  blonde. 

May  not  nature,  when  she  shades  the  human  skin, 
at  the  same  time  dim  the  sense  of  delicacy  ?  No 
American  youth,  however  coarse  or  calloused,  would 
have  done  as  Jesus  did.  Yet  none  in  my  belief 
was  freer  from  any  taint  of  personal  impurity  — 
his  the  unconscious  innocence  of  a  child  of  nature. 


THE   TRANSFORMATION 


135 


"  How  good  it  feels  to  strip,"  he  said,  inflating 
his  chest  and  throwing  back  his  shoulders.  Alas ! 
I  lost  my  complacent  pride  in  my  own  attire. 

What  tailor's  art  could  add  to  that  magnificent 
physique?  Every  garment  would  but  hide  its 
glory.  I  felt  old,  fat,  misshapen,  before  this 
perfect  man. 

And  how  easily  he  dressed !  The  silk  stockings 
slipped  over  his  bare  feet,  the  snowy  linen  sought 
the  broad  breast,  neck  and  wrists  received  their 
due  adornment,  one  garment  followed  another 
until  in  a  jiffy  it  was  done.  Before  my  eyes  the 
minister  had  wrought  a  double  transformation. 
First  a  god  in  bronze,  then  a  well-groomed  society 
man !  I  did  not  ask  any  questions  —  I  was  too 
astonished.  It  would  have  seemed  to  me  in  keep- 
ing with  the  rest  if  the  mozo  who  brought  in  the 
bundles,  like  some  fabled  fairy  godmother,  had 
with  a  wave  of  his  sombrero  called  forth  a  coach 
and  six. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE   DINNER   PARTY 

THE  Governor  received  us  with  that  refined 
blending  of  dignity  and  deference  which  is  the 
birthright  of  every  Mexican,  and  introduced  his 
wife,  who  seemed  (as  do  so  many  Mexican  women) 
much  older  than  her  husband.  Again  my  lan- 
guage faculty  failed. .  Phrases  culled  with  such 
care  from  "  Spanish  at  a  Gulp "  withered 
and  died.  Sentences  I  thought  to  be  under 
thorough  discipline  became  a  wordy  rabble.  I 
labored  away,  using  just  Spanish  enough  to  make 
my  English  unintelligible.  But  the  host  and 
hostess  with  perfect  good  breeding  pretended  to 
understand  me  when  I  did  not  understand  myself, 
and  put  me  so  entirely  at  ease,  it  gave  me  courage 
to  continue.  Presently  the  daughter  entered, 
graciously  shook  hands  with  me  and  even  more 
cordially,  it  seemed,  with  Jesus.  Now  even  an 
American  youth  under  the  circumstances  might 
feel  embarrassed  and  blush  and  blunder.  But 
Jesus  turned  white  and  trembled.  I  feared  he 

136 


THE   DINNER   PARTY 


137 


was  about  to  faint.  (That  is  the  one  thing  I 
detest  in  him  —  he's  over-emotional.)  I  helped 
him  out  with  a  flashing  reminiscence  of  "  Spanish 
at  a  Gulp  " :  "  Me  alegro  mucho,  yes  indeed  ah ! 
of  course  it  is,  de  ver  a  Usted  —  muy  mucho, 
Senorita." 

"  Si,"  her  laugh  was  the  sweetest  little  laugh  ; 
lips,  teeth,  eyes,  all  made  merry  music.  Nobody 
could  resist  it.  Even  Jesus  rallied. 

"  Senorita,"  he  murmured,  "  debo  dar  las  gracias 
a  Usted  por—  '  but  here  his  voice  faltered  and 
his  eyes  filled.  Turning  quickly  away,  I  addressed 
the  old  couple  an  inquiry  which  required  their 
whole  attention  and  violent  facial  contortions  and 
manual  gestures  of  mine  to  make  sense  of,  but 
I  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  young  couple 
clasp  hands  and  look  happy. 

Other  guests  now  appeared  and  the  gorgeously 
furnished  parlors  became  enlivened.  I  got  along 
famously  by  bowing  and  smiling  indiscriminately, 
and  I  saw  that  Jesus  maintained  his  vantage 
ground  with  the  senorita.  Indeed,  I  began  to 
worry  lest  she  was  neglecting  other  duties,  when 
suddenly  she  darted  from  him  and  ran  with  out- 
stretched hands  to  welcome  some  one  specially 
favored.  It  was  Benavides. 

All  seemed  to  be  awaiting  him,  for  immediately 


!38  JESUS   DELANEY 

on  his  entry  the  guests  were  paired  and  marched 
to  the  dining  room.  I  had  the  distinguished 
honor  of  escorting  the  Governor's  wife,  while  the 
hapless  Jesus  led  in  an  old  dowager,  whose  face, 
despite  its  wrinkles,  was  elaborately  painted  and 
calcimined.  Seated  opposite  him  were  Miss 
Romero  and  Senor  Benavides.  I  did  not  observe 
the  latter  until  near  the  close  of  the  meal,  by 
which  time,  the  sumptuous  viands  and  the  rich 
wines  which,  let  me  say,  my  hostess  compelled  me 
out  of  sheer  gallantry  to  partake  beyond  my  usual 
limit,  made  me  well  disposed  to  all  mankind.  So 
when  I  did  notice  him,  such  was  my  genial  humor, 
I  do  believe,  had  I  caught  the  scoundrel's  eye, 
I  would  have  raised  my  glass,  as  I  was  doing  to 
all  around,  and  drank  his  health. 

It  was  a  moment  of  great  pride  to  me  when  the 
Governor  rose  in  his  seat  and  in  words  of  elegant 
courtesy  proposed  my  health.  Now  I  have  some 
repute  at  home  as  an  after-dinner  speaker,  and  my 
experience  stood  me  in  good  stead.  Arising,  I 
bowed  my  best  Naval  Academy  bow  to  the  Gov- 
ernor, then  another  "of  the  same  sort  to  his  wife, 
and  a  third  encompassed  the  whole  company.  I 
spoke  as  follows  :  "  No  hablo  good  —  I  mean 
bueno  Espagnol.  Estoy  Americano  y  hablo  noth- 
ing—  I  mean  todos  los  dias  English  —  that  is 


THE   DINNER   PARTY 


139 


Ingles.  Pero,  nevertheless,  quiero  to  say  that 
I  appreciate  —  aprecio  mucho  esta  courtesia  y  pro- 
pose to  drink,  I  mean  beber  la  buen  salud  de  la 
Senora  Romero."  The  applause  was  hearty. 

Cigars  were  lit,  several  of  the  ladies  lighting 
cigarettes,  and  after  another  toast  or  two  all 
strolled  out  into  the  magnificent  inner-court 
garden  or  patio.  The  orchestra  played  a  grand 
march.  The  scene  recalled  the  Arabian  Nights. 

Soon  the  music  softened,  softened  and  seemed 
to  steal  languorously  into  a  dreamy  Mexican  waltz, 
wiling  the  senses  away  with  it.  Opening  into  the 
patio  was  a  great  hall  whose  colored  pillars  and 
rich  mosaics  were  palatial.  Into  this  hall  the  host 
led  with  his  partner,  I  followed  with  Mrs.  Romero, 
and  presently  every  guest  was  circling  gayly 
to  the  inspiring  strains.  Every  guest,  did  I  say  ? 
No,  one  pair  sat  apart.  Jesus  couldn't  dance. 

What  he  must  have  suffered,  seeing  me  and 
thinking  of  the  delight  he  was  denying  his  part- 
ner by  not  having  learned  my  accomplishments  ! 
Nor  could  it  have  consoled  him  to  witness  Seflorita 
Romero  gliding  amorously  round  and  round  in 
the  arms  of  Senor  Benavides.  The  fourth  time 
I  passed  I  noticed  such  downright  agony  in  his 
face  that  I  thought  to  go  to  him.  Just  then  I 
saw  Benavides  seat  his  partner.  An  idea  struck 


I40  JESUS   DELANEY 

me  —  one  of  those  inspirations  which  we  are  wont 
to  call  presence  of  mind.  Instead  of  going  to 
Jesus  I  brought  up  near  Benavides,  seated  Mrs. 
Romero  beside  him,  and  begged  the  honor  of 
a  dance  from  her  daughter.  She  assented  and 
away  we  went.  On  the  very  first  round  when  we 
reached  Jesus  (I  mention  this  to  show  my  affec- 
tion for  the  young  man  and  the  sacrifice  of  which 
I  was  capable),  I  stopped  short  and  seated  Miss 
Romero  at  his  side,  then  craving  a  waltz  from 
the  old  lady  who  was  with  him,  off  I  sailed  again. 
She  was  a  poor  waltzer  and  I  was  very  tired,  but 
I  kept  on.  I  was  waltzing  against  time  for  friend- 
ship's sake.  Whenever  I  passed  the  now  happy 
Jesus  I  imagined  I  saw  an  imploring  look  flash 
from  his  dark  eyes,  bidding  me  go  on,  and  on 
I  went.  Round  and  round  I  whirled  until  my 
head  grew  dizzy  and  I  was  at  last  forced  to  quit. 
Yet  even  then,  as  panting  I  approached  Jesus, 
there  was  on  his  face  such  unmistakable  protest 
that  pleading  the  need  of  fresh  air  I  paraded  my 
aged  partner  in  the  patio. 

#  #  *  *  * 

Jesus  was  silent  most  of  the  way  home  and  I 
was  sleepy.  I  remember,  however,  that  he  roused 
me  by  a  question,  — 

"  Will  you  teach  me  how  to  waltz  ? " 

I  thought  at  first  he  was  joking.    But  he  wasn't. 


CHAPTER  XXI 

JESUS  A   BEAR 

THE  morning  after  a  late  dinner  and  gay  dance 
is  apt  to  be  given  to  moralizing.  Thus  it  was  that 
I  lay  in  bed  reflecting  on  recent  occurrences  in  the 
life  of  Jesus  Delaney  and  my  personal  responsi- 
bility in  the  premises.  I  acquitted  myself  of  any 
design  to  bring  about  these  events  —  nothing  had 
been  further  from  my  thoughts.  Yet  uncon- 
sciously I  had  aided  and  abetted.  I  had  met  the 
young  man  little  more  than  a  week  before,  satis- 
fied with  his  lot,  engrossed  in  his  sacred  work,  at- 
tached to  a  worthy  woman,  and  following  the  lines 
laid  down  for  him  by  his  benefactors.  Could  this 
be  said  of  him  now?  Certainly  not.  His  mind 
was  no  longer  on  his  work,  his  ambition  was  dis- 
torted, his  relations  with  Miss  Anderson  strained 
if  not  broken,  and  above  all  and  under  all  a 
foolish,  hopeless  passion  for  a  girl  in  a  different 
sphere  of  life. 

Events  had  crowded.  One  by  one  they  rose 
in  my  mind.  The  love-song  at  the  market,  the 

141 


I42  JESUS   DELANEY 

sight  of  Miss  Romero  on  the  plaza,  the  fight,  the 
arrest,  the  release,  the  double  duel,  and  last 
the  dinner  and  dance.  Where  would  such  a  pace 
lead  ?  To  no  good  in  all  human  likelihood.  I 
determined  to  consult  with  the  Reverend  Lamb, 
undo  if  I  could  the  evil  already  done,  and  prevent 
if  possible  further  mischief. 

My  opportunity  for  such  counsel  came  that 
very  day,  as  the  Reverend  Lamb,  who,  it  seems, 
had  been  seized  with  misgivings  himself,  was  an 
early  caller  at  my  room. 

"  I  am  here  to  speak  with  you  about  Jesus." 

I  knew  what  was  coming  and  made  no  answer. 

"He  is  acting  very  queerly  of  late,  neglects 
his  work,  and"  —  the  Reverend  Lamb  paused  in 
the  indictment — "he  is  almost  rude  to  Miss 
Anderson." 

"  Impossible !  He  could  not  help  being  courte- 
ous." 

"  There  are  cases  where  mere  courtesy  is  almost 
rudeness." 

"  Well,  Jesus  has  had  a  very  trying  experience." 

"  I  am  aware  of  that." 

"And  I  think  a  little  time  will  bring  him  round." 

"  I  trust  so.  But  something  happened  yester- 
day I  cannot  account  for  by  any  reference  to  his 
experience." 


JESUS   A   BEAR  !43 

The  Reverend  Lamb's  solemn  earnestness  in 
making  this  statement  was  alarming.  I  could 
only  dread  some  awful  escapade  compared  with 
which  the  other  affairs  were  trivial. 

"  Yesterday  he  drew  his  whole  salary,  instead 
of  leaving  it  with  me  as  usual,  and  he  borrowed 
one  hundred  dollars  additional."  I  was  greatly 
relieved. 

The  dress  suit  was  no  more  a  mystery.  I 
thought  it  best  to  tell  all  to  the  Reverend  Lamb. 
I  expected  it  would  greatly  amuse  him.  But  in- 
stead he  was  amazed,  incensed,  roused  into  angry, 
bitter  protest.  Again  did  I  marvel  at  his  manner 
when  informed  of  the  arrest  and  the  duel.  These 
were  serious,  the  dress  suit  a  mere  boyish  vanity. 

"  It  is  wrong,  all  wrong,  utterly  demoralizing  !  " 
and  he  wrung  his  hands.  I  pleaded  the  natural 
desire  of  a  young  man  to  appear  at  his  best  on 
such  an  occasion. 

"  He  was  masquerading ! "  said  the  Reverend 
Lamb.  "  A  minister  of  the  Gospel  in  such  a 
costume  at  a  bacchanalian  ball!" 

"Reverend  Lamb,"  said  I,  "there  was  nothing 
bacchanalian  about  the  ball,  nothing  masquerading 
about  the  costume;  I  was  there  and  similarly 
dressed." 

"  You  are  not  a  minister,"  he  retorted. 


144  JESUS  DELANEY 

"  Thank  God !  "  I  answered. 

"  Amen !  "  said  he,  walking  away.  He  had  the 
last  word.  But  he  soon  returned. 

"You  surely  admit  that,  situated  as  he  is, 
such  conduct  is  folly,"  continued  the  Reverend 
Lamb. 

There  he  had  me.  I  could  not  deny  the  unseem- 
liness of  it  from  that  standpoint. 

"  It  is  certainly  to  be  regretted.  I  am  deeply 
sorry  to  have  been  the  occasion  of  it." 

"What  had  best  be  done?"  The  Reverend 
Lamb  was  really  anxious. 

"Can  you  not  send  him  off  somewhere  for  a 
while  ? "  I  suggested. 

He  reflected.  "  I  have  it.  The  very  thing. 
They  want  a  missionary  at  Santa  Rosa.  A 
month  there  will  remedy  the  whole  trouble.  But 
I  must  see  Mrs.  Lamb  about  it,"  and  he  left. 

Sitting  with  Craig  on  the  plaza  that  night  watch- 
ing the  promenaders  and  listening  to  the  music, 
I  was  surprised  to  see  Jesus  in  the  crowd,  smartly 
dressed  and  walking  by  himself.  He  did  not  see 
us,  but  went  round  and  round  disconsolate.  At 
last,  after  stopping  and  hesitating  as  if  in  doubt, 
he  walked  dejectedly  away.  We  remained  until 
the  music  ceased,  and  the  night  was  so  glorious 
we  took  a  route  to  the  hotel  which  led  us  by  the 


JESUS  A   BEAR  !45 

house  of  Governor  Romero.  I  paused  to  point  it 
out  to  Craig,  and  as  I  did  so,  observed  a  tall,  lonely 
figure  in  the  shadow. 

"  Jesus,"  said  Craig,  "  a  bear."  l 

It  was  in  truth  Jesus. 

We  would  have  passed  on,  but  his  odd,  fantastic 
actions  held  us.  Even  as  we  looked  he  removed 
his  hat,  stood  on  tiptoe  and  craned  his  neck,  while 
his  eyes  were  fixed  in  eager,  ardent  gaze  upon  an 
upper  window.  For  a  moment  the  curtain  raised 
a  tiny  space,  disclosing  the  fair  hand  that  held  it. 

But  during  that  moment  the  young  man  man- 
aged to  fling  more  kisses  and  heave  more  sighs 
and  writhe  more  visible  ecstasy  than  has  ever  been 
told  of  in  the  maddest  poetry  of  love.  When  the 
curtain  fell  he  knelt.  We  walked  away. 

"  What  do  you  think  of  that  ? "  I  asked  Craig. 

He  did  not  answer  for  some  time,  then  I  heard 
him  growl  under  his  breath,  — 

"  Envy  damned  fool." 

1  When  the  young  Mexican,  in  the  course  of  his  suit,  reaches 
the  point  that  brings  him  nightly  to  stand  before  the  house  of  his 
lady-love,  he  is  called  "  un  oso,"  a  bear. 
L 


CHAPTER  XXII 

A   SPIRITUAL   AWAKENING 

THERE  was  a  conference  at  the  Institute  on  the 
following  day  between  the  Reverend  and  Mrs. 
Lamb  and  myself  upon  the  subject  of  sending 
Jesus  to  Santa  Rosa.  The  Reverend  Lamb  was 
strongly  in  favor  of  his  being  sent  there,  Mrs.  Lamb 
was  as  strongly  opposed.  The  Reverend  Lamb 
deplored  the  gravity  of  the  recent  escapades,  Mrs. 
Lamb  made  light  of  them.  And  when  the  Rever- 
end Lamb  rejoined  by  characterizing  the  whole 
conduct  of  Jesus  as  scandalous,  Mrs.  Lamb  rose 
to  his  defence  with  spirit. 

"  What  has  the  boy  done,"  she  asked,  "  that's  so 
blamable  ?  He  saved  the  Governor's  life.  Was 
that  scandalous  ?  He  defended  himself  against 
brutal  policemen.  What  brave  man  would  have 
done  otherwise  ?  Even  the  duel  was  more  an 
impulse  of  friendship  than  the  prompting  of  re- 
venge. Did  he  not  fight  more  on  your  account 
than  his  own  ? "  she  asked  me.  "  If  he  went  to  a 

146 


A   SPIRITUAL   AWAKENING  147 

dinner  party  and  dressed  as  other  young  men,  or 
if  he  danced "  (here  Reverend  Lamb  raised  his 
hands),  "  what  harm  ? 

"Jesus  is  no  dowdy,"  she  continued;  "and,  even 
if  true,  for  one  of  his  years  to  be  in  love  with  a 
pretty  girl  —  " 

The  entrance  of  Miss  Anderson  left  the  sentence 
unfinished,  much  to  my  regret;  for  she  had  just 
reached  a  point  upon  which  her  candid  opinion 
would  have  been  of  great  interest. 

The  interruption  caused  some  slight  embarrass- 
ment, but  it  was  readily  relieved  by  the  Reverend 
Lamb,  who,  to  my  astonishment,  instead  of  chang- 
ing the  subject,  plainly  stated  the  question  to 
Miss  Anderson  and  virtually  submitted  it  to  her 
adjudication. 

"  We  were  discussing,"  said  he,  "  the  advisability 
of  having  Jesus  for  a  time  go  to  Santa  Rosa  in 
order  that  he  may  recover  from  the  effects  of  his 
late  unfortunate  experiences." 

"  Not  unfortunate  —  disgraceful  is  the  proper 
word,"  and  she  eyed  me  sternly. 

"Miss  Anderson  —  "  began  Mrs.  Lamb. 

"  My  dear,"  interrupted  her  husband  hastily,  "  I 
perceive  some  children  in  the  flower-beds."  There 
was  a  quick  touch  of  color  on  the  cheeks  of  Mrs. 
Lamb,  but  she  quietly  left  the  room. 


I48  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  Disgraceful,  not  unfortunate,"  calmly  repeated 
Miss  Anderson. 

The  Reverend  Lamb  bowed  his  acquiescence. 

"  But  do  you  not  think  that  change  of  scene  will 
remedy  the  evil  ? " 

"  Change  of  scene !  Where  in  the  Bible,  Rev- 
erend Lamb,  do  you  find  change  of  scene  pre- 
scribed for  sin  ? " 

The  Reverend  Lamb  humbly  acknowledged  his 
error. 

"  What  is  needed  is  prayer,"  she  said,  "  the  con- 
stant society  of  the  prayerful  to  lift  one's  mind  from 
unholy  thoughts.  All  that  has  happened  is  the 
doing  of  Satan.  (Here  she  looked  hard  at  me.) 
Let  Satan  be  met  here  in  Alameda,  where  Jesus  has 
friends  to  help  him,  not  in  some  far-away  wilder- 
ness where  he  would  have  to  cope  with  the  enemy 
alone." 

"  You  are  right,"  said  the  Reverend  Lamb,  ap- 
provingly. "  Let  us  pray." 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  there  was  a  spiritual  revival 
at  the  Institute.  Prayers  were  longer,  grace  more 
impressive,  meetings  more  frequent,  and  the  battle 
against  Rome  waged  with  unwonted  vigor.  Jesus 
was  unconscious  of  the  cause  or  purpose  of  the  un- 
usual zeal.  But  he  yielded  to  it.  His  emotional 
nature  caught  the  heavenly  fire,  and  soon  he  led 


A  SPIRITUAL  AWAKENING 


149 


all  the  rest  in  pious  fervor.  He  was  saved.  Nay, 
more ;  the  reaction  from  his  worldly  lapse  carried 
him  to  a  higher  plane.  In  the  schoolroom,  in 
the  church,  but  more  marked  in  mission  work,  he 
became  an  evangelical  giant.  All  he  did  was 
characterized  by  ardent,  tireless,  passionate  energy. 
Everything  alien  to  his  holy  purpose  seemed  for- 
gotten. No  more  was  he  seen  on  the  plaza,  nor 
in  lonely  vigil  at  the  residence  of  Miss  Romero. 
Night  and  day  his  work  went  on.  He  prayed,  sang, 
and  preached.  He  made  a  house-to-house  canvass 
in  the  poorest  districts.  Converts  flocked  to  the 
Institute. 

Every  time  I  met  the  Reverend  Lamb  he  had 
a  tale  of  further  conquest.  Two  more  yesterday  ! 
Three  to-day !  No  Indian  could  have  been  more 
boastful  of  scalps.  Many  who  had  backslidden  re- 
turned to  the  fold.  Doctor  Medina  (Brother  Baez), 
among  others,  made  open  acknowledgment  of  his 
fall  from  grace.  Deeply  resentful  of  the  fellow's 
fraud  upon  me,  I  expressed  doubts  to  the  Rev- 
erend Lamb  of  the  genuineness  of  his  repentance, 
but  when  he  came  to  me  one  day  at  the  Institute 
and,  kneeling  down  in  an  attitude  of  profound 
shame  and  contrition,  raised  his  tearful,  pleading 
eyes  and  begged  my  pardon,  I  freely  forgave  him. 
Moreover,  after  I  had  lifted  him  to  a  seat  beside 


150  JESUS  DELANEY 

me  and  heard  from  his  lips  the  story  of  his  life,  the 
persecutions  to  which  he  was  being  subjected  by 
relentless  Rome,  and  the  difficulties  surrounding 
him  by  reason  of  his  poverty,  I  was  moved  to  help 
him  with  a  donation. 

Even  Antonio  gave  promise  of  redemption,  pass- 
ing one  whole  Sunday  without  getting  drunk. 
But  Mrs.  Lamb  disappointed  me.  She  who  was 
so  fit  to  lead,  held  aloof.  I  rarely  saw  her  at  a 
meeting.  And  stranger  still,  neither  the  Rever- 
end Lamb  nor  any  of  the  rest  seemed  to  regret  or 
even  note  her  absence.  She  simply  went  her  usual 
way,  such  time  as  she  could  spare  being  passed 
among  the  poor.  While  others  prayed  and  preached 
to  crowded  gatherings,  she  sought  the  suffering  in 
their  wretched  homes,  remote  from  public  gaze,  dis- 
pensing charity,  braving  pestilence,  nursing,  consol- 
ing, encouraging. 

Noble  enough,  no  doubt ;  but,  as  the  Reverend 
Lamb  most  justly  asked,  "of  what  avail  to  van- 
quish antichrist  ? " 

No  wonder  she  was  unmentioned  in  his  Report 
to  the  Board  —  a  Report  that  will  remain  on  record 
for  all  time,  bearing  testimony  to  the  pious  zeal, 
yea,  and  the  business  forethought  of  him  who 
sent  it. 

"  The  spirit  of  the  Gospel  has  at  last  descended 


A   SPIRITUAL  AWAKENING  I5I 

on  Alameda,"  he  wrote.  "The  cry  of  the  be- 
nighted went  forth;  the  answer  has  been  heard 
loud  and  clear, '  The  Redeemer  hath  come.'  We 
have  girded  up  our  loins  for  a  grand  charge  upon 
the  scarlet  woman.  To  God  be  the  glory  given, 
but  let  not  be  forgotten  the  meed  of  praise  due  to 
the  noble  efforts  of  our  brother  in  Christ,  Jesus 
Delaney.  We  need  more  money."  And  the  next 
draft  remitted  by  the  Board  was  a  big  one. 


CHAPTER  XXIII 

A   DISTURBED   SERVICE 

ONE  of  the  new  converts  was  the  keeper  of  a 
cantina,  who  was  known  among  the  people  as  "  El 
Pajaro,"  although  his  right  name  was  Don  Pancho 
Servando  Realitos.  (By  the  way,  every  Mexican 
has  a  nickname.)  While  El  Pajaro's  reform  did 
not  reach  the  extreme  of  closing  his  grog-shop,  it 
went  to  the  extent  of  renouncing  Romanism  and 
cock-fighting,  to  both  of  which  evils  he  was  for- 
merly addicted.  He  was  punctual  at  services  and 
gave  substantial  evidence  of  sincerity  by  asking 
Jesus  to  visit  his  place  and  spread  the  true  faith 
among  its  frequenters.  So  it  was  arranged  that 
on  a  Sunday  afternoon  a  Gospel  gathering  would 
be  held  at  the  cantina  of  El  Pajaro.  Thither  I 
accompanied  Jesus. 

The  little  room  was  filled  with  men  and  women, 
and  the  bar  where  the  unconverted  wife  of  El 
Pajaro  was  discharging  the  functions  of  her  con- 
verted husband,  dealing  out  mescal,  pulque,  and 
cheap  cigars  to  her  customers,  was  enjoying  an 

152 


A  DISTURBED   SERVICE 


153 


unusually  brisk  patronage.  Several  hulking 
loungers  hung  around  the  entrance,  and  in  the 
back  yard  quite  a  crowd  had  gathered.  Our 
arrival  provoked  no  rowdyism.  The  scenes  that 
are  so  common  on  such  occasions  at  home  —  hoot- 
ing, jeering,  and  scuffling  —  have  no  counterpart  in 
Mexico.  There  was  rather  an  air  of  deferential, 
quiet  curiosity.  Owing  to  the  large  number  pres- 
ent, it  was  decided  to  hold  the  meeting  in  the  yard. 
There  were  no  seats  except  for  Jesus  and  myself, 
and  the  crowd  stood  about  or  sat  upon  the  ground. 
But  the  utmost  endeavors  of  El  Pajaro  failed  to 
bring  them  close  to  us.  Whatever  the  reason, 
they  kept  as  far  away  as  the  limits  of  the  yard 
permitted,  leaving  before  us  a  considerable  space 
untenanted.  I  expected  this  would  embarrass 
Jesus,  but  it  didn't.  He  spoke  easily,  pleasantly, 
familiarly.  He  caught  their  attention,  aroused 
their  interest  and  held  it.  I  could  understand 
enough  to  know  he  was  telling  the  old,  sweet  story 
of  Bethlehem.  Every  face  was  softened  in  sym- 
pathy. He  told  of  the  carpenter's  son,  dutiful  and 
industrious,  living  so  like  themselves,  His  simple, 
lowly  life.  Then  the  Christ,  healing  the  sick,  rais- 
ing the  dead,  giving  to  men  the  new  Gospel  of 
doing  unto  others  as  they  would  be  done  by.  Last, 
that  sacrifice  sublime  on  Calvary  !  There  were 


154  JESUS  DELANEY 

grave  faces  and  glistening  eyes.  This  sacrifice 
was  for  them;  for  them  this  God  had  come  on 
earth  and  died.  Such  was  Christianity.  That 
same  Christ  who  died  on  Calvary,  lived  in  Heaven, 
looking  down  upon  them  and  asking  them  to  come 
to  Him.  He  was  there  for  all.  He  did  not  re- 
quire that  they  seek  Him  in  confessional.  He  did 
not  ask  that  they  come  with  a  priest.  The  sinner 
had  but  to  will  and  be  saved. 

I  imagined  that  all  present  being  Catholics, 
some  might  resent  this  reflection  on  their  clergy  or 
creed.  But  there  was  no  sign  of  resentment.  They 
continued  attentive,  respectful,  and  were  even 
seemingly  convinced.  Clearly,  great  results  could 
be  counted  on,  for  Jesus  had  simply  led  up  to  a 
commanding  position  and  was  unlimbering  his 
heaviest  guns  for  an  assault  on  Rome.  But  an 
untoward  incident  occurred.  At  either  side  of  the 
yard  was  tethered  a  rooster,  the  only  ones  left  of  a 
large  number  which  El  Pajaro  had  bred  for  the 
ring.  Whether  by  their  own  efforts  or  by  the  aid 
of  some  mischievous  pelados,  the  birds  became 
freed  from  their  bonds,  and  with  elongated  necks 
stealthily  sought  each  other.  They  met  in  the 
open  space  in  front  of  us.  Jesus  kept  on  as  if 
unconscious  of  the  counter  attraction,  but  it  was 
too  much.  Nobody  heard  the  minister  —  every 


A   DISTURBED   SERVICE 


155 


eye  was  on  the  roosters.  Those  who  sat  stood  up, 
those  who  were  standing  moved  forward.  A  solid 
circle  was  formed,  and  the  battle  was  on.  The 
birds  spurred  and  picked.  There  were  cheers  of 
encouragement.  Bets  were  called.  Even  with  El 
Pajaro,  love  for  the  national  sport  over  leapt  zeal 
for  his  new-found  faith,  and  he  shouted  a  bet  on 
the  black :  — 

"  Valedores !  "  he  cried.  "  Voy  cinco  pesos  al 
negro  !  "  ("  I'll  bet  five  dollars  on  the  black !  ") 

We  walked  away  unnoticed.  Jesus  did  not 
speak  for  several  minutes,  and  when  he  did  it  was 
to  remark  that  he  thought  El  Pajaro  would  lose 
his  bet. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 

RELIGION   VS.    POLITICS 

THERE  is  no  telling  how  rich  a  harvest  might 
have  been  reaped  in  Alameda,  had  the  season  of 
religious  fervor  run  a  natural  course.  Spiritual 
progress  was  beyond  all  precedent.  The  Institute, 
of  course,  was  in  the  forefront  of  the  movement, 
but  other  missions  participated.  Not  to  be  out- 
done by  the  Reverend  Lamb,  three  branch  mis- 
sions were  started  by  the  Reverend  Tuttle,  two  by 
Reverend  Josh,  and  other  sects  hastily  sent  for- 
ward their  reapers  and  gleaners.  Each  of  these 
joined  with  the  Reverend  Lamb  in  the  fight  against 
Rome,  and  at  the  same  time  they  wrestled  for  souls 
with  each  other.  Hardly  a  street  that  did  not  echo 
nightly  to  good  old  revival  airs  sung  with  Spanish 
words.  Jesus  carried  the  war  to  the  very  citadel 
of  the  enemy  by  holding  meetings  opposite  the 
Cathedral.  No  wonder  weird  tales  went  out  when 
the  bats,  disturbed  by  such  unusual  sounds,  filled 
the  dark  edifice  with  their  cries  and  flights.  Fat 

156 


RELIGION   vs.  POLITICS 


157 


priests  were  said  to  be  scowling  from  the  belfry 
windows.  The  Reverend  Lamb  saw  them,  and 
told  me  how  they  were  being  consumed  with  im- 
potent rage.  I  saw  two  of  them  that  same  night 
seated  together  in  the  Cathedral  yard.  I  could 
not  say  they  were  being  consumed  —  they  were 
certainly  smoking. 

But  when  everything  looked  most  favorable, 
there  came  a  blight  —  politics.  The  public  mind, 
that  had  been  cultivated  in  the  light  and  warmth 
needful  to  the  growth  of  religious  ideas,  became 
superheated  with  the  excitement  of  a  political  cam- 
paign. The  sprouts  of  the  new  faith  were  choked 
with  the  weeds  of  partisanship. 

It  was  as  unexpected  as  untimely.  An  election 
in  Mexico,  local  or  national,  is,  as  a  rule,  the  merest 
perfunctory  ceremony.  The  effort  of  good  citizens 
is  always  to  avoid  friction  and  make  any  sacrifice 
for  the  sake  of  peace.  But  occasionally  harmony 
is  impossible.  The  arts  of  intrigue,  the  play  of 
ambition,  force  some  one  to  the  front  who  is  utterly 
obnoxious. 

Such  was  the  case  in  the  candidacy  of  Benavides. 
If  half  that  was  said  of  him  were  true,  he  was  more 
deserving  of  the  penitentiary  than  the  State  House, 
stripes  rather  than  laurels.  He  had,  so  it  was  said, 
maltreated  his  parents,  swindled  his  nearest  kin- 


158  JESUS   DELANEY 

dred,  defrauded  widows  and  orphans,  violated 
every  trust.  But  strange  to  say,  the  strongest 
charge  against  him,  and  that  which  at  once  ac- 
counted for  his  enemies  and  friends,  was  that  he 
was  the  subservient  tool  of  the  priests. 

For  there  are  two  chief  parties  in  Mexico,  by 
whatever  names  they  are  known,  the  Clerical  or 
"  Conservadores,"  and  the  anti-Clerical  or  "  Liber- 
ales."  Benavides  belonged  to  the  former.  So  did 
Governor  Romero,  but  not  pronouncedly ;  he  was 
a  conservative  man,  respected  even  by  his  partisan 
opponents,  while  his  prospective  son-in-law  was 
believed  to  represent  all  that  was  pernicious  and 
offensive  in  priestcraft.  Thus  it  was  that  the 
usual  quiet  of  a  prearranged  succession  was  dis- 
turbed with  violent  contention.  The  opposition, 
at  first  the  merest  mutterings  of  protest,  grew 
louder  and  bolder;  meetings  were  held,  clubs 
formed,  leaders  chosen.  The  agitation  extended 
to  all  classes,  and  soon  reached  those  with  whom 
the  Reverend  Lamb  and  his  colleagues  were  labor- 
ing. Alas !  the  evil  of  it.  How  could  prayer 
and  sermon  and  song  contend  against  flare  of 
fireworks,  the  blare  of  bands,  the  wild  whoops 
of  factions,  the  noise  and  excitement  and  glory 
of  parades !  One  by  one  the  missions  closed  — 
Tuttle  first,  then  Josh,  even  the  Reverend  Lamb 


RELIGION  vs.   POLITICS 


159 


at  last  withdrew  from  the  unequal  struggle.  A 
wretch  had  arisen  in  a  prayer  meeting  as  if  to 
pray,  but,  instead,  began  a  fierce  political  ha- 
rangue, and  those  who  had  been  praying  and 
singing  not  only  listened,  but  broke  forth  in  un- 
godly demonstrations  of  approval. 

Of  all  the  evangelists  Jesus  alone  maintained 
the  fight  with  marvellous  pluck.  Every  other 
mission  closed  —  his  still  kept  open.  He  would 
not  give  up.  But  the  attendance  dwindled  and 
drooped.  It  was  discouraging.  Men  in  whose 
complete  regeneracy  he  had  prided,  abandoned 
him,  even  El  Pajaro.  Women  in  the  middle  of 
a  fervent  period  or  touching  hymn  would  leap 
away  at  the  first  toot  of  a  brass  band.  Twice  he 
changed  his  place  of  meeting  where  he  thought 
he  would  be  remote  from  political  turmoil.  But 
as  if  by  sheer  malice  some  Club  would  start  in  his 
immediate  neighborhood. 

One  evening  I  attended  and  found  him  sorely 
depressed.  A  passing  procession  had  emptied  the 
room  during  his  evening  prayer.  Miss  Anderson 
was  playing  the  organ  and  singing  at  the  time, 
and  to  her  credit  be  it  said,  notwithstanding  the 
desertion,  calmly  proceeded  with  every  verse.  At 
the  close  of  her  song  we  consulted.  Jesus  was  for 
giving  up.  She  held  out  for  going  on. 


160  JESUS   DELANEY 

"I  can  never  stand  another  such  experience," 
he  said. 

She  answered  in  her  deep,  decisive  tone : 
"  Leave  that  to  me.  We  will  meet  here  on 
Wednesday  night." 


CHAPTER  XXV 

THE    INGENIOUS    PLAN   OF    MISS    ANDERSON 

WEDNESDAY  night  came,  and  with  it  most  un- 
propitious  signs  for  the  success  of  Miss  Ander- 
son's meeting.  A  great  rally  announced  for  the 
plaza !  A  new  speaker  coming  from  another  town 
and  two  big  parades !  I  could  hear  the  din  of 
gathering  crowds  as  I  left  the  hotel,  and  saw  ever 
and  anon  the  flash  of  soaring  rockets. 

"  No  Mexican,  man  or  woman,  will  be  away  from 
the  plaza  to-night,"  thought  I.  But  to  my  amaze- 
ment and  great  joy  when  I  entered  the  little  mis- 
sion room  more  people  were  in  attendance  than 
for  many  a  day,  and  more  were  still  coming. 
Even  before  the  hour  of  opening,  the  place  was 
filled.  On  the  face  of  Jesus  as  he  rose  for  prayer 
there  was  a  glow  of  thanksgiving  and  pride. 

Not  only  did  the  people  come,  they  staid  to  the 
end.  Once  in  the  middle  of  the  service  I  heard 
afar  the  music  of  an  approaching  band.  It  came 
and  passed,  but  scarcely  one  of  his  audience 

M  IUI 


!62  JESUS   DELANEY 

heeded  it.  Miss  Anderson  bore  a  look  of  triumph. 
Jesus  was  jubilant. 

"  How  did  you  do  it  ? "  he  asked. 

"Where  there's  a  will  there's  a  way,"  she  an- 
swered. 

"  Miss  Anderson  is  a  wonderful  woman,"  said  I, 
on  the  way  home. 

"  She  is  indeed,"  he  replied,  and  it  was  the  first 
time  any  of  my  references  to  her  was  received  by 
him  with  enthusiasm. 

"A  fit  mate  for  an  evangelist,"  he  went  on; 
"with  her  energy,  zeal,  and  resources  what  might 
be  accomplished  ? " 

This  was  so  much  in  line  with  the  wishes  of 
the  Reverend  Lamb  that  I  was  not  surprised  at 
the  high  spirits  of  the  latter  the  next  time  we 
met. 

"There  may  be  a  wedding  at  the  Institute  yet," 
said  he,  prodding  me  jocularly  with  his  forefinger. 
I  must  have  looked  as  if  I  thought  the  act  uncleri- 
cal,  for  he  clasped  his  hands,  raised  his  eyes,  and 
added,  "  If  the  Lord  so  wills  it." 

The  next  meeting  under  the  management  of 
Miss  Anderson  was  still  more  notable.  It  not  only 
filled  the  small  room,  but  many  were  on  the  side- 
walk clamoring  for  admittance.  Indeed,  so  violent 
became  the  pious  zeal  of  those  outside  to  get  in 


INGENIOUS  PLAN   OF   MISS   ANDERSON      163 

that  a  policeman  had  to  be  summoned  to  keep 
order.  What  made  this  great  attendance  particu- 
larly gratifying  was  the  fact  of  a  political  meeting 
the  same  night  only  a  couple  of  squares  away. 
The  Lord  was  with  us. 

After  service  our  hearts  were  so  glad  we  held 
a  thanksgiving  at  the  Institute.  Miss  Anderson 
was  the  heroine.  The  Reverend  Lamb  praised 
her  in  his  prayer  as  one  whom  God  had  singled 
out  for  this  special  work.  Nos.  I,  2,  and  3  paid 
her  appropriate  tribute,  and  Jesus  closed  with 
a  fervent  invocation  of  further  blessings  on  their 
joint  labors,  at  which  the  Reverend  Lamb  ejacu- 
lated a  loud  and  significant  "Amen!"  Things 
were  going  his  way.  Was  I  pleased  or  not?  I 
could  not  say.  But  when  Jesus  came  to  the  hotel 
next  morning  looking  nervous,  excited,  and  em- 
barrassed, and  told  me  that  he  wanted  my  counsel 
in  a  personal  matter  of  great  moment,  it  threw  me 
into  a  panic. 

"  Let  us  take  a  walk,"  said  I,  hastily;  "my  head 
aches."  And  out  we  started.  At  the  door  we 
were  stopped  by  an  old  woman  who  gave  Jesus  a 
letter.  He  looked  puzzled  when  he  read  it,  and 
asked  her  a  question  to  which  she  responded  vol- 
ubly. Her  answer  seemed  to  confound  him  and 
he  stood  staring  at  her. 


164  JESUS   DELANEY 

"What  is  the  matter?"  I  asked.  He  handed 
me  the  letter.  It  was  as  follows  :  — 

PAROQUIA  DE  LA  SANTISSIMA  TRINIDAD. 
For  la  presente  certified  que  la  portadora,  Guadalupe  Varela, 
es  una  mujer  honrada  y  puedo  recomendarla  como  veridica  y 
honesta. 

PABLO  MOREL,  Cura  Parroco. 

"  It  is  a  certificate  from  the  priest,  Pablo  Morel, 
that  this  woman  is  of  good  character  and  truth- 
ful," explained  Jesus. 

"And  what  business  has  she  with  you  ? " 

He  hesitated  a  moment,  then  replied :  — 

"  She  claims  that  she  was  promised  a  medio  [six 
and  one-fourth  cents]  for  herself  and  for  each  one 
she  would  bring  to  our  meeting  last  night ;  that 
she  came  there  and  brought  her  husband  and  six 
children,  but  could  not  get  in  on  account  of  the 
crowd.  She  claims  fifty  cents." 

"Who  promised  to  pay  her  for  going  to  meet- 
ing?" 

Jesus  hesitated,  hung  his  head,  looked  uneasy 
and  troubled,  but  finally  answered,  — 

"  She  says  it  was  Miss  Anderson." 

I  at  once  suspected  fraud. 

"  Ask  her  why  she  got  a  letter  from  a  priest  to 
help  her  in  the  matter.  What  has  the  priest  to  do 
with  it  ?  "  said  I. 


INGENIOUS   PLAN   OF   MISS   ANDERSON      165 

"  Porque  fue  Vd.  al  Sacerdote  en  este  negocio  ? " 
Jesus  asked. 

It  was  the  woman's  turn  to  look  troubled.  With 
evident  embarrassment  she  replied  :  — 

"  Antes  de  ir  a  la  reunion  pedi  permiso  al  Padre 
y  me  dijo  que  estaba  bien  siempre  que  le  diera  la 
mitad  para  la  Iglesia.  Todos  los  demas  hicieron 
lo  mismo." 

The  face  of  Jesus  was  pallid  and  his  voice  fal- 
tered as  he  translated  :  — 

"  She  says  that  she  asked  the  priest's  permission 
to  attend  the  meeting,  and  he  gave  permission  pro- 
viding she  would  pay  him  half  the  proceeds  for 
the  church.  All  the  others,  she  says,  did  the 
same." 

"Well,  I'll  be  — .  But  there  must  be  some 
mistake.  Go  with  her  at  once  to  Miss  Anderson." 

He  left  with  her  while  I  sat  down  to  ponder  on 
the  devious  ways  of  mission  work  in  Mexico. 

I  expected  him  back  shortly,  for  we  had  agreed 
on  a  stroll  together.  But  he  did  not  come.  After 
a  full  hour  a  boy  brought  a  note  from  him  which 

read :  — 

The  woman's  story  is  true. 

JESUS. 

***** 

That  afternoon  I  chanced  to  meet  Mrs.  Lamb, 
who,  followed  by  Antonio  with  a  bundle,  was  on 


1 66  JESUS   DELANEY 

her  customary  round.  I  joined  her  and  saw  her 
leave  in  nearly  every  hut  we  visited,  some  little 
article  of  need,  —  a  child's  dress,  a  pair  of  shoes, 
a  cake  of  soap,  or  a  doll,  —  yes  !  for  one  old  tooth- 
less creature  a  big  package  of  cigarettes.  And 
when  I  caught  the  gleam  of  joy  that  greeted  her 
coming,  and  the  glow  of  gratitude  that  blessed  her 
going,  I  wondered  if  after  all  her  way  is  not  the 
best.  Certainly  the  Reverend  Lamb  should  make 
more  of  her  in  his  Reports. 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

JESUS   IN   POLITICS 

IN  the  weak,  spiritless  state  that  follows  failure, 
one  is  apt  to  yield  easily  to  the  first  influence,  be 
the  same  good  or  bad.  So  it  was  with  Jesus. 
His  boyhood's  dream,  the  sole  ambition  of  his 
youth,  the  loyal  faith  of  manhood,  was  the  spirit- 
ual uplifting  of  his  race.  For  this  alone  he  lived, 
and  all  his  life  had  prayed  and  planned.  Whirled 
off  for  a  while  by  a  sudden  wave  of  passion,  the 
revival  had  drawn  him  back  and  fixed  anew  his 
holy  purpose.  Then  the  occasion  came ;  he  seized 
it  and  was  borne  aloft  upon  the  luminous  wings 
of  hope  and  faith.  He  had  reached  at  last  an 
exalted  plane  that  seemed  in  very  sight  of  his 
cherished  goal,  when  fate  dashed  him  down.  He 
felt  himself  worse  than  a  failure  —  a  laughing- 
stock. For  who  would  hear  of  those  subsidized 
meetings  and  not  make  him  the  butt  of  gibe  and 
scorn  ?  Day  after  day  I  met  him,  but  he  turned 
from  me  dumb  and  desolate.  He  wanted  to  be 
alone,  and  the  Reverend  Lamb  and  I,  gloomy 

167 


1 68  JESUS   DELANEY 

ourselves  over  the  sudden  collapse  of  the  mission 
movement,  made  the  grave  mistake  of  thinking  it 
would  be  better  so.  We  left  him  to  himself. 
Others,  however,  sought  him. 

By  some  mischance  there  had  passed  from 
tongue  to  tongue  the  story  of  his  duel  with 
Benavides.  Enemies  of  the  latter  made  it  a  dra- 
matic tale,  in  which  Benavides  was  the  baffled 
villain  and  Jesus  the  chivalric  hero.  On  the  very 
day  succeeding  the  dreadful  revelation  regarding 
Miss  Anderson's  meetings,  a  laudatory  letter  came 
to  him  at  the  Institute.  Many  such  followed. 
Men  whom  he  did  not  know  stopped  him  in  the 
street  and  embraced  him.  Little  groups  gathered 
as  he  passed,  and  cheered.  Within  a  week  he 
had  drunk  the  wine  of  popularity.  Before  Rev- 
erend Lamb  or  myself  was  aware,  he  was  in  con- 
sultation with  the  moving  spirits  of  the  political 
campaign,  nay,  an  actual  attendant  at  their  meet- 
ings. Craig  first  informed  me  of  this ;  but  I  saw 
at  once  how  it  had  come  about. 

Of  course  I  took  him  to  task  for  it  and  strove 
to  impress  him  with  the  utter  impropriety  of  one 
of  his  calling  mixing  in  such  business.  But  he 
insisted  that  it  was  his  duty.  "  Benavides  is  a 
villain,  an  oppressor  of  the  poor,  a  tool  of  the 
priests,"  he  declared. 


JESUS   IN   POLITICS  ^9 

"  And  the  accepted  lover  of  Sefiorita  Romero," 
I  added  to  myself. 

The  Reverend  Lamb,  I  discovered,  was  also 
opposed  to  Benavides,  whom  he  believed  to  be 
a  hireling  of  the  Vatican. 

"  It  would  be  a  bad  thing,"  he  said,  "  for  the 
future  of  missionary  work  to  have  such  a  man 
governor."  But  he  counselled  Jesus  against  any 
indiscretion. 

Now  I  abhor  the  mixing  of  religion  and  poli- 
tics. I  have  seen  much  of  it  at  home,  and  never 
have  known  other  than  evil  to  come  from  it.  In 
my  judgment,  the  Reverend  Lamb  should  have 
forbidden,  positively  forbidden,  Jesus  from  taking 
any  part  in  the  matter,  publicly  or  privately. 
Admitting  that  Rome  was  in  it,  if  Rome  saw  fit 
to  run  Benavides,  let  her.  That  is  natural  in 
Rome,  but  our  church  is  above  such  business, 
far  above  it.  Missionaries  particularly,  I  argued, 
should  avoid  political  intrigue.  They  are  per- 
mitted to  pursue  their  sacred  work  by  the  tol- 
erance of  the  law  of  the  land  and  under  the 
protection  of  its  constituted  authorities,  and  it  is 
no  business  of  theirs  to  make  or  unmake  them. 
Reverend  Lamb  agreed  to  all  this  with  some  reser- 
vations. Jesus,  however,  quite  promptly  rejoined 
that  although  he  was  a  missionary,  he  was  at  the 


170  JESUS   DELANEY 

same  time  a  Mexican ;  that  his  duties  to  his 
church  did  not  absolve  him  from  his  duties  to 
his  country.  I  couldn't  gainsay  this.  He  was 
doubtless  sincere,  yet  I  felt  in  my  bones  that  if 
it  wasn't  for  a  certain  senorita,  he  would  regard 
very  differently  his  relative  duties  to  church  and 
state.  Passion  colors  the  conscience  of  the  best 
of  us. 

My  protests  were  of  no  avail.  He  spoke  at 
meetings,  appeared  at  a  public  parade,  and  was 
chosen  chairman  of  a  club.  His  erratic,  fierce 
energies  were  transferred  from  the  fight  against 
Rome  to  the  fight  against  Benavides. 

"  He  is  overdoing  it,"  said  the  Reverend  Lamb. 
"Out  till  midnight  every  night  and  often  away 
from  his  duties  during  the  day.  I  can  stand 
much,  very  much,  but  there  is  a  point  at  which 
patience  ceases  to  be  a  virtue."  This  was  said 
ominously. 

I  seldom  saw  him.  Once  he  passed  the  hotel 
mounted  on  a  spirited  horse  and  dressed  in  a 
cavalier  "charro"  costume.  At  another  time  I 
met  him  distributing  what  I  supposed  to  be  tracts, 
but  subsequently  found  to  be  political  handbills. 
In  fact,  he  developed  an  aptitude  for  politics  that 
showed  unerringly  the  Irish  origin  of  his  grand- 
father. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

HEREDITY 

YET  I  must  admit  that  his  brief  discourse  one 
Sunday  afternoon  at  the  joint  service  of  the  Eng- 
lish-speaking residents  of  Alameda,  was  most  ex- 
emplary, breathing  fervent  piety  and  full  of  good 
sense.  We  were  all  proud  of  him.  It  was  evidence 
of  the  grand  work  which  could  be  accomplished 
with  his  priest-ridden  countrymen.  "  Indeed  "  (as 
Brother  Lamb  said  in  the  closing  prayer),  "  had  it 
not  been  for  the  Institute  and  the  spirit  that  fos- 
tered it,  this  inspired  young  man  to  whom  we  have 
just  listened  might  be  among  the  poor  creatures 
we  see  to-day  gathered  on  the  hill  worshipping  the 
Virgin  Mary." 

The  Reverend  Lamb  was  referring  to  a  sort  of 
festival  then  taking  place  on  a  hill  near  Alameda, 
which  had  attracted  thousands  of  the  poorer  classes. 
After  the  service  that  afternoon  I  went  up  to  look 
at  the  crowd  out  of  curiosity.  Most  of  them  were 
apparently  sight-seers  like  myself.  But  round  a 
huge  cross  were  kneeling  fully  a  thousand  mot- 

171 


I72  JESUS   DELANEY 

ley-costumed  men  and  women,  and  the  strange 
murmur  of  their  prayers  made  a  weird  sound. 
There  was  no  priest  among  them,  and  I  was  told 
that  the  priests  discountenanced  the  ceremony. 
But  the  masses  clung  to  it.  The  monotonous  pray- 
ing soon  wearied  me  and  I  was  about  to  leave, 
when  suddenly  they  rose  from  their  knees  and 
began  to  circle  around  the  cross.  Then  a  sort  of 
chant  was  started  in  which  all  soon  joined,  keeping 
time  with  an  uncouth  dance.  I  had  seen  just  such 
a  dance  in  Northern  Wisconsin  and  in  the  Dakotas, 
and  by  the  very  same  sort  of  people.  Catholics  ? 
you  ask.  No !  Indians.  For  these  poor  wretches 
who  sang  and  leaped  about  the  cross  were  nothing 
else,  only  of  a  darker  type  than  those  we  are  ac- 
customed to,  and  that  wild  song  had  been  sung, 
and  that  grotesque  dance  had  been  danced  pos- 
sibly a  thousand  years  before  Christ  came  on 
earth.  Yet  I  did  not  doubt,  as  I  looked  and 
listened,  that  had  the  True  Faith  been  given  a 
chance,  it  would  long  since  have  wrought  a  change 
to  better  things.  It  did  not  occur  to  me  that  the 
True  Faith  had  had  the  chance  in  the  places  I  men- 
tioned, in  New  England,  Wisconsin,  and  the  Dako- 
tas. I  simply  thought  of  Jesus  Delaney  and  what 
was  done  for  him.  Not  that  he  would  have  been 
cavorting  around  that  cross  in  any  event, —  his 


HEREDITY 


173 


family  were  not  of  that  class,  —  but  beyond  any 
doubt  he  would  have  been  confessing  to  priests, 
prostrating  himself  before  images,  worshipping 
the  Virgin,  and  indulging  in  all  'the  debasing 
superstitions  of  his  people.  Whatever  his  faults, 
he  was  done  with  that  forever.  But  it  was  too 
bad  that  other  weaknesses  were  not  eradicated. 

Somebody  has  written  that  the  education  of  a 
child  should  begin  twenty  years  before  it  is  born. 
Whoever  wrote  that  may  have  had  some  such 
acquaintance  as  Jesus.  I  will  go  further  in  his 
case  and  say  it  would  have  been  well  if  his  edu- 
cation had  begun  with  his  Irish,  Spanish,  and 
Indian  ancestry.  I  would  not  then  have  had  the 
humiliation  of  seeing  him  that  very  night  —  but 
I  must  tell  it. 

Weary  from  my  long  walk  up  the  hill  and  down, 
instead  of  going  to  the  plaza  Sunday  evening,  I 
sat  resting  in  front  of  the  hotel.  It  was  an 
odd  procession  which  kept  passing.  Now  a  scat- 
tering squad  of  soldiers,  each  armed  with  a  long 
stick  of  sugar-cane  which  he  ravenously  chewed 
and  expectorated,  then  groups  of  gorgeously 
dressed  sefioritas  highly  powdered  and  strongly 
scented,  on  their  way  to  the  plaza,  anon  a  drove 
of  dwarfed  donkeys  laden  with  bundles  of  wood 
bigger  than  themselves,  beggars  of  all  sorts  and 


174  JESUS   DELANEY 

conditions  of  whining  misery,  cocheros  urging 
starved-looking  horses  with  lash  and  shout,  song- 
ful caballeros,  —  drunk  and  sober, —  policemen,  big 
and  little  (mdstly  little  and  miserably  uniformed), 
with  prisoners,  —  one  officer  oftentimes  to  three 
maudlin  offenders,  three  or  four  officers  sometimes 
required  for  one,  —  I  counted  sixty  such  wretches 
in  an  hour,  the  last  being  Antonio  with  a  police- 
man at  his  head,  another  at  his  feet,  borne  proudly 
by  shouting  as  he  passed,  "  Viva  Mexico  !  " 

Presently  there  was  a  great  commotion.  Vehi- 
cles turned  up  side  streets,  promenaders  fled  into 
hallways,  even  officers  and  soldiers  took  fright  and 
flight.  Coming  down  the  street  at  full  speed  on 
horses  wild  and  foaming  was  a  party  of  madmen, 
firing  their  pistols  in  a  perfect  fusillade  and  shriek- 
ing :  "  Abajo  Benavides !  Muera  Benavides  !  " 
(Down  with  Benavides  !  Death  to  Benavides !) 
The  foremost  of  the  gang  was  Jesus. 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

THE    FIESTA 

EL  CLUB  PROGRESIVO  POLITICO,  or  the  Progressive 
Political  Club  of  which  Jesus  was  President,  was  in 
serious  straits  for  money.  In  its  zeal  for  the  cause 
of  Reform,  debts  had  been  incurred  without  pro- 
vision for  their  payment,  and  many  of  these  were 
being  pressed  by  creditors.  So  at  the  regular 
weekly  meeting  following  the  patriotic  demonstra- 
tion described  in  the  preceding  chapter,  the  matter 
of  raising  funds  was  earnestly  considered.  Vari- 
ous plans  were  discussed,  but  that  which  met 
with  most  favor  was  the  motion  of  Seftor  Don 
Calixto  Santa  Maria,  called  El  Profesor,  (he 
taught  ethics  in  the  College  of  "  La  Purisima,") 
that  the  Club  give  a  bull-fight.  The  only  objection 
urged  against  it,  was  the  prevailing  high  price  of 
fighting  bulls,  and  this  was  more  than  offset  by  the 
low  price  of  horses,  three  or  four  of  which  would 
likely  be  gored  to  death  on  the  occasion.  Doubt- 
less the  motion  of  El  Profesor  would  have  been 
unanimously  carried,  had  it  not  been  that  Jesus 

175 


JESUS   DELANEY 

made  a  strong  speech  against  bull-fighting  gen- 
erally and  the  proposed  exhibition  in  particular. 
So  earnest  and  eloquent  his  protest,  and  such  the 
influence  he  had  acquired,  that  a  substitute  sub- 
mitted by  El  Pajaro  was  adopted.  Instead  of  a 
bull-fight,  it  was  decided  to  have  a  booth  at  the 
coming  fiesta  and  devote  the  proceeds  thereof  to 
the  Club  treasury. 

Jesus  was  elated  with  this  moral  victory,  and 
told  me  all  the  details  as  we  went  together  to 
the  fiesta  on  the  opening  night. 

"  It  shows,  notwithstanding  their  love  for  the 
national  sport,"  said  he,  "my  countrymen  are 
open  to  reason." 

(This  from  a  man  whom  I  had  vainly  tried  to 
convince  of  the  impropriety  of  firing  pistols  in  the 
street  as  an  assertion  of  political  opinion !) 

Neither  of  us  had  been  to  a  fiesta,  but  we  read 
in  the  Governor's  proclamation  in  the  official 
journal  of  Alameda  that  it  was  the  annual  cele- 
bration or  fair,  chartered  by  the  state  legislature, 
"for  the  promotion  of  the  arts  and  industry  and 
the  interchange  of  foreign  and  domestic  commod- 
ities." The  proclamation  further  recited  "that 
order  should  be  maintained,  peace  and  security 
to  property  guaranteed,  and  that  only  such  games 
not  prohibited  by  law  would  be  allowed." 


THE   FIESTA  177 

We  found  a  vast  crowd  in  attendance.  A  band 
played,  and  the  people  promenaded  as  at  the 
plaza,  or  patronized  the  booths,  of  which  there 
were  no  less  than  fifty.  After  looking  awhile 
at  the  interesting  concourse,  we  started  to  find 
the  booth  of  the  Progressive  Political  Club.  I 
had  expected  from  the  official  proclamation,  as 
did  Jesus,  that  the  booths  would  be  devoted  to 
exhibits  of  art  and  manufacture,  or  some  sort  of 
light  traffic  or  entertainment.  But  the  first  we 
entered  was  taken  up  with  a  long  table,  at  which 
men  and  women  sat  playing  Spanish  Monte. 
The  next  booth  differed  from  the  first  by  hav- 
ing two  tables  instead  of  one.  The  next  was  a 
saloon  in  full  blast,  and  the  next  and  still  another 
were  gambling  dens.  We  entered  no  more,  for  as 
we  passed  along  in  search  of  the  Club,  each  suc- 
cessive booth  warned  us  of  its  business  by  the 
clink  of  glasses  or  the  rattle  of  chips. 

Our  search  was  in  vain.  Not  only  did  we  fail 
to  find  the  Club  booth,  but  stranger  still  not  a 
member  known  to  Jesus  was  anywhere  visible. 
We  wandered  about  watching  with  much  dis- 
favor the  little  outside  stands,  each  of  which 
had  some  penny-catching  game  of  chance. 
Here  an  old  woman  with  a  pack  of  cards,  there 
an  old  man  with  a  dice-box,  the  stake  a  penny, 

N 


178  JESUS   DELANEY 

the  bank  an  ostentatious  heap  of  pennies,  the 
gamesters  children.  Yet  officers  of  the  law 
looked  on !  We  happened  at  last  to  pass  a 
booth  from  which  came  a  voice  both  of  us  at 
once  recognized  as  that  of  El  Pajaro.  He  was 
calling  in  a  sing-song  way :  — 

"  For  aca  !  For  aca !  Aqui  esta  la  suerte !  Con 
uno  ganan  treinta  seis  !  El  doce  Colorado  !  Otra 
vez  va  la  bola  !  El  cobarde  que  nada  arriesga  nada 
gana  !  Vengan  por  aca !  Aqui  esta  la  suerte  !  " 
(Come  here!  Come  here  !  Here's  your  luck! 
Thirty-six  for  one !  Twelve  red !  Once  more 
goes  the  ball,  etc.) 

We  entered  ;  it  was  the  booth  of  "  El  Club  Pro- 
gresivo  Politico."  It  contained  a  long  table,  round 
which  sat  a  number  of  members  and  a  fair  propor- 
tion of  non-members,  among  whom  was  my  friend 
Craig.  In  a  hollow  in  the  centre  of  the  table  a 
nickel-plated  wheel  whirled  with  a  series  of  num- 
bers, while  a  little  ivory  ball  rolled  in  the  oppo- 
site direction.  On  each  side  was  a  large  green 
cloth  with  the  corresponding  numbers  of  the 
wheel  in  red  and  black  figures.  It  was  roulette, 
and  the  dealer  was  El  Pajaro.  Entirely  una- 
bashed, he  gave  us  a  quick  nod  of  recognition 
and  kept  up  his  sing-song :  "  Aqui  esta  la 
suerte  !  Todo  parejo  !  Todo  limpio  !  Aqui  esta 


THE   FIESTA 

la  fortuna ! "  and  he  deftly  whirled  the  tempt- 
ing wheel. 

I  did  not  dare  to  look  at  Jesus.  I  felt  that  his 
mortification  must  be  unbearable.  The  Club  of 
which  he  was  President,  carrying  on  a  wretched 
catch-penny  gambling  game !  The  convert  of 
whom  he  was  so  proud  publicly  playing  the  role 
of  a  common  gambler !  But  when  at  last  I  turned 
to  leave,  what  was  my  surprise  to  see  no  sign  of 
shame  or  sorrow.  On  the  contrary,  he  seemed  ab- 
sorbed in  the  play,  and  eager  as  El  Pajaro  himself 
that  the  bank  should  win.  He  followed  the  whirling 
ball  round  and  round.  Now  it  fell  in  a  number 
which  paid  Craig  28  for  i,  and  his  countenance 
clouded ;  now  it  dropped  into  the  spot  marked 
with  a  double  cipher,  which  swept  every  penny 
wagered  into  the  coffer  of  El  Pajaro,  and  he 
rubbed  his  hands  gleefully. 

"  This  is  no  place  for  a  clergyman,"  I  whispered. 
"  Let  us  go." 

"  No  ?  Why  not  ? "  he  answered.  "  What's  —  " 
then  as  if  startled  with  a  sudden  sense  of  its  im- 
propriety he  shook  his  head  regretfully. 

"  You  are  right,"  he  said.  "  Let  us  go,"  and  we 
went  out. 

I  resolved  to  read  him  a  lesson  on  the  evil  con- 
sequences of  bad  company. 


180  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  You  see,  Jesus,"  I  began,  placing  my  hand  on 
his  shoulder,  "you  see—  '  but  he  stopped,  un- 
heeding me,  and  followed  with  rapt  gaze  a  figure 
among  the  promenaders.  It  was  Sefiorita  Romero. 

He  stood  transfixed.  Several  times  she  passed 
us,  but  not  once  did  she  chance  to  catch  his  eager, 
worshipful  eyes.  Presently,  with  her  escort,  an 
aged  lady,  she  entered  a  booth.  Without  a  word 
we  followed.  There  sat  Sefiorita  Romero  playing 
roulette. 

*  #  »  *  * 

Whether  it  was  the  precedent  set  by  his  adored, 
or  just  such  a  calculation  as  I  confess  to  myself, 
and  which  made  winning  a  mathematical  certainty, 
—  whatever  the  cause,  a  few  minutes  after  Miss 
Romero's  departure  found  Jesus  in  the  seat  she 
had  occupied,  with  a  stack  of  chips  before  him, 
feverishly  staking  every  turn  of  the  wheel. 


CHAPTER   XXIX 

JESUS   GOES   TO   SANTA   ROSA 

THE  story  of  the  riotous  ride  had  already 
reached  the  Reverend  Lamb.  Then  came  a  dark 
tale  of  gambling  at  the  fiesta.  That  settled  it.  Even 
Miss  Anderson  admitted  Jesus  should  leave  the 
Institute.  Not  that  the  incident  created  any  par- 
ticular comment  among  the  Mexicans.  It  didn't. 
The  appearance  of  a  clergyman  at  a  game  of 
lawn  tennis  would  be  scarcely  more  remarkable 
with  us.  But  rival  missions  were  concerned. 
The  Reverend  Josh  and  the  Reverend  Tuttle  were 
both  greatly  shocked.  To  them  it  was  a  gross 
scandal  —  a  scandal  which  would  militate  against 
the  further  spread  of  the  Gospel.  They  reported 
it  to  their  respective  Boards ;  they  deplored  it  to 
their  respective  congregations ;  they  even  went  so 
far  as  to  join  in  a  protest  to  the  Reverend  Lamb. 
Within  a  week  there  came  from  the  Executive 
Board  a  peremptory  order  for  the  transfer  of  Jesus 
to  Santa  Rosa.  It  was  a  wretched  affair  all  around, 
and  the  worst  phase  of  it  was  the  seeming  blind- 

181 


I 82  JESUS   DELANEY 

ness  of  Jesus  to  any  sense  of  wrong-doing.  He 
showed  no  regret,  no  repentance.  When  told  of 
the  order  of  the  Board,  he  rebelled.  He  informed 
the  Reverend  Lamb  that  he  would  either  remain 
at  the  Institute  or  quit  the  ministry.  He  in- 
formed Miss  Anderson  that  he  was  master  of  his 
own  conscience,  and  that  she  should  be  satisfied  to 
be  mistress  of  hers.  But  his  temper  softened  after 
a  brief  appeal  from  Mrs.  Lamb.  "  For  my  sake, 
Jesus,"  she  pleaded.  "There  are  three  hundred 
souls  at  Santa  Rosa.  They  know  not  God.  Fathers 
and  mothers  there  who  live  in  darkness.  You  can 
bring  the  light.  There  are  little  children  who 
have  never  heard  of  Christ.  Go  to  them,  Jesus." 
"  I  will  go,"  he  said  impulsively.  But  when  the 
Reverend  Lamb  held  out  his  hand  in  pious  appro- 
bation, he  gave  a  contemptuous  toss  of  the  head 
and  turned  aside. 

I  was  at  the  depot  to  bid  him  good-by.  I  talked 
encouragingly  of  his  new  field  and  the  great  good 
he  could  accomplish.  He  would  be  happy  in  the 
work. 

He  never  answered,  but  looked  at  me  with  such 
mournful  remonstrance  that  I  stopped.  A  few 
moments  before  the  train  pulled  out,  a  queer,  squatty 
figure  surmounted  by  a  high  and  wide-brimmed 
hat  approached  us.  I  recognized  Antonio. 


JESUS   GOES  TO   SANTA  ROSA  ^3 

"  Yo  tambien  voy  con  Usted,  Don  Jesus,"  he 
said.  He  was  asking  to  be  taken  along. 

"  No,  Antonio,  impossible,  no  puedes  venir 
conmigo." 

The  wrinkled  old  face  began  to  work  convulsively 
and  was  soon  wet  with  tears. 

"  Yo  tambien  voy,"  he  said.  "  Yo  tambien  voy," 
he  repeated,  just  as  a  crying  child  whose  heart  was 
obstinately  set  on  something.  "  Su  madre  quiere 
que  me  vaya  con  Usted."  Then  he  changed  in- 
stantly to  an  air  of  cheerful  confidence. 

"  Aqui  esta  la  Senora,"  and  turning,  we  saw  the 
mother  of  Jesus. 

She  too  pleaded,  urging  him  to  take  Antonio. 

"  Llevate  a  Antonio,  Jesus,"  she  said.  He  drew 
her  gently  aside  and  reasoned  with  her,  but  she 
had  her  way.  Before  the  final  bell  struck  for  de- 
parture, I  saw  the  face  of  Antonio  grinning  happily 
at  the  window  of  a  second-class  car. 

"  If  I  don't  get  up  to  see  you  in  a  week  or  so, 
Jesus,  write  to  me,"  I  said.  I  bade  him  good-by 
and  the  train  glided  away. 

I  had  become  attached  to  the  young  man,  yet 
I  felt  a  great  relief  when  he  was  gone.  It 
would  put  an  end  to  the  untoward  happenings 
which,  while  brought  about  by  no  intent  of 
mine,  were  somehow  so  closely  coincident  I 


1 84  JESUS   DELANEY 

could  not  help  feeling  a  sort  of  responsibility. 
My  conscience  acquitted  me  of  any  wrong  in  the 
matter.  I  reasoned  it  over  again  and  again  and 
always  with  that  result,  yet  still  would  come  a 
qualm  of  feeling  that  but  for  me,  Jesus  would  never 
have  had  such  experiences  and  would  still  have 
been  in  the  undisturbed  sanctity  of  routine  work  at 
the  Institute.  But  nothing  more  could  happen 
because  of  me  now.  He  was  gone  and  I  ought 
to  be  glad  of  it.  Yet  while  there  was,  as  I  say, 
a  sense  of  relief,  there  was  with  it  a  feeling  of  re- 
gret, and  this  last  feeling  strengthened  day  by  day. 
I  missed  him.  There  was  a  charm  in  his  compan- 
ionship indescribable.  Craig  was  far  better  posted 
than  he  on  Mexican  affairs,  and  the  Reverend 
Lamb  was  certainly  better  informed  upon  mission 
work,  yet  I  spent  little  time  in  the  society  of  either 
that  I  did  not  yearn  for  Jesus.  Somehow  he 
brought  back  to  me  vividly  the  fulness  and  fresh- 
ness of  my  own  youth.  Or  was  it  that  while  with 
him,  and  even  away  from  him,  there  often  rose  in 
my  mind  a  notion  which  almost  became  a  belief, 
that  the  little  one  for  whom  the  mother  gave  her 
life  at  birth,  and  whom  I  laid  at  her  side  within  a 
week,  would  have  grown  like  him.  He  would  have 
—  Yes,  sir.  They  were  all  big,  comely  men  on  his 
mother's  side,  and  the  men  of  my  people  were  all 


JESUS  GOES  TO   SANTA  ROSA  185 

larger,  better  looking,  more  athletic  than  myself, 
and  he  was  a  likely  baby,  straight-limbed,  broad- 
chested,  sweet-faced.  Had  he  lived  —  well  — 

I  watched  for  a  letter  from  Jesus,  and  when 
finally  one  came,  I  was  almost  ashamed  of  my 
nervous  eagerness  for  news  of  him.  I  didn't  even 
wait  to  reach  my  room,  but  at  once  opened  the 
envelope  and  to  my  intense  disappointment  drew 
out  a  smaller  one  sealed  and  addressed  :  — 

SENORJTA  MARIE  ROMERO, 

Alameda,  Mexico. 

Was  there  nothing  for  me?  No  word?  Yes. 
Peering  into  the  open  envelope,  I  found  a  little, 
forlorn  scrap  of  paper  on  which  was  scrawled :  — 

I  know  you  will  deliver  this. 

JESUS. 

I  was  so  indignant,  I  could  have  torn  scrap  and 
all  into  shreds.  If  the  fellow  had  only  deigned 
to  tell  me  something  of  himself,  how  he  was,  what 
he  was  doing.  But  to  thrust  on  me  the  devious 
work  of  carrying  his  correspondence  —  to  make 
me  a  go-between !  What  did  he  take  me  for  ? 
No !  I  am  not  that  sort  of  a  man.  But  I  resisted 
the  first  impulse  to  tear  the  thing,  and  simply 
decided  to  send  back  to  Jesus  the  sealed  envelope, 
and  decline  with  dignity  the  office  he  saw  fit  to 


1 86  JESUS  DELANEY 

assign  me.  I  went  to  my  room  and  began  a  letter 
to  him.  But  I  got  calmer  as  I  wrote,  and  reflected 
that  I  must  not  say  anything  to  hurt  the  poor  lad's 
feelings.  Finally  I  stopped  writing  and  my  eyes 
caught  the  words  of  that  little,  plaintive  scrawl : 
"  I  know  you  will  deliver  this.  Jesus."  He  knew 
I  would.  He  knew  me  better,  it  seemed,  than  I 
knew  myself,  for  I  tore  up  the  unfinished  letter, 
and  rose  from  my  desk  with  a  determination  to 
convey  his  missive  to  Miss  Romero. 


CHAPTER  XXX 

DELIVERING  THE   LETTER 

BUT  how  was  I  to  do  so  ?  I  had  not  met  her 
nor  her  father  since  the  dinner  party.  I  had  no 
reasonable  excuse  for  seeing  either  of  them  now. 
Besides,  she  might  be  away.  There  was  real  relief 
in  this  last  possibility.  But  I  set  about  my  task. 
Now,  with  an  American  girl,  such  a  mission  would 
involve  no  trouble ;  a  special  delivery  stamp,  and 
the  nearest  mail-box.  But  in  Mexico,  young 
ladies  don't  get  letters  by  mail,  nor  do  they  re- 
ceive gentlemen  callers,  young  or  old.  They  are 
watched  and  guarded  as  if  home  were  a  convent 
and  every  man  a  designing  monster.  How  was 
I  to  give  that  letter  to  Miss  Romero  ?  I  couldn't 
stalk  the  plaza  like  a  love-struck  fool,  and  hand 
it  to  her  as  I  passed.  I  couldn't  prowl  about  her 
house  or  play  "  tick-tack-toe  "  at  her  window.  Of 
course  I  might  bribe  a  servant.  But  could  I  be 
sure  of  the  servant?  What  certainty  was  there 
that  the  servant  would  not  take  my  bribe  and  the 

187 


1 88  JESUS   DELANEY 

letter  to  Governor  Romero  ?  It  was  all  in  all  a 
miserable  business.  But  fortune  favored  me. 

Walking  along  the  street,  my  mind  muddled 
by  a  throng  of  utterly  irrational  ways  and  means 
of  delivering  surreptitious  letters,  I  came  to  the 
Cathedral.  Here  I  paused,  as  was  my  custom, 
to  gaze  at  the  stately  structure.  Just  then  a 
carriage  drew  up,  and  as  luck  would  have  it  who 
should  alight  and  enter  the  church  but  Miss 
Romero.  "There,"  thought  I,  "is  the  one  place 
she  can  go  unattended.  Yet  it  is  the  one  place 
where  communication  with  her  would  be  grossly 
improper."  Without  definite  purpose,  I  walked 
in  after  her  and  watched  her  go  to  a  pew  near  the 
great  altar  and  adjoining  a  confessional.  I  stood 
a  moment  irresolute,  then  went  up  the  long  aisle 
and  entered  the  pew  immediately  behind  her. 
She  was  kneeling.  I  did  the  same.  It  was  my 
first  show  of  devotion  in  a  Catholic  church ;  but 
God  knows  my  motive  was  not  idolatrous,  so  the 
act  may  be  forgiven  me.  Still  I  could  not  help 
thinking  the  shock  it  would  have  given  the  Rev- 
erend Lamb,  Miss  Anderson,  or  my  good  friends 
at  home  had  any  of  them  come  upon  me  in  such 
an  attitude  in  such  a  place. 

Miss  Romero,  while  she  knelt,  read  from  a 
dainty,  plush-bound  prayer-book.  Presently  the 


DELIVERING  THE   LETTER 

curtains  of  the  confessional  parted,  a  penitent 
emerged  and  Miss  Romero  closed  her  book,  laid 
it  down,  and  entered  the  vacant  apartment.  The 
moment  the  curtains  closed  behind  her,  I  stealthily 
reached  to  the  little  book,  inserted  the  letter  of 
Jesus,  and  resumed  my  devotions. 

No  wretch  who  had  just  picked  a  pocket,  no 
burglar  still  on  the  plundered  premises  could  feel 
more  apprehension.  I  imagined  the  priest  scowl- 
ing at  me  from  the  confessional.  I  felt  keen  eyes 
glaring  from  every  side.  I  seemed  to  hear  the 
murmur  of  voices  telling  of  the  sacrilege.  I  was 
seized  with  actual  terror.  Yet  I  held  my  ground 
nor  moved  until  the  click  of  the  closing  slide 
and  the  silken  rustle  told  me  Miss  Romero  had 
finished. 

Now  was  the  critical  moment. 

I  almost  held  my  breath.  I  looked  anxiously 
at  the  beautiful  face  lit  up  with  sanctity,  but 
downcast  lids  veiled  the  eyes.  She  reentered  her 
pew,  knelt,  prayed  awhile,  then  reached  down  and 
got  her  prayer-book.  I  saw  the  slight  sensitive 
body  shudder  and  the  lovely  head  fall  forward. 
My  dread  became  intolerable.  Had  she  fainted? 
No !  Thank  God.  Her  head  raised  again  with 
an  audible  sigh.  I  kept  my  kneeling  posture. 
I  knew  that  my  limbs  were  trembling.  It  seemed 


190  JESUS  DELANEY 

to  me  a  long,  long  time,  but  finally  she  rose.  As 
she  passed,  our  eyes  met  and  the  look  in  hers  was 
certainly  not  resentment. 

On  leaving  that  Catholic  church,  I  made  a 
solemn  vow  never  to  enter  another  on  any  such 
mission. 

Seated  in  front  of  the  hotel  in  the  evening, 
thinking  over  what  had  occurred,  an  elderly 
woman  dressed  in  black  accosted  me.  She  held 
up  an  envelope,  inquiring  if  it  was  for  me :  — 

"  Sera  esto  para  Usted,  Senor  ?  " 

"  Si,  Senora,"  I  answered,  observing  my  name. 

She  handed  it  to  me  and  walked  away. 

Opening  the  envelope,  I  found  within  another, 
sealed  and  addressed  :  — 

SR.  DON  JESUS  DELANEY. 
Unfolded  beside  it  lay  a  tiny  strip,  which  read : — 

Suplico  mande  entregar  a  su  destine,  favor  que  mucho 
agredecera,  Su  Attente  Servidora, 

M.  R. 

I  was  in  for  it  again.  M.  R.  was  doubtless 
Marie  Romero,  and  she,  too,  had  appointed  me 
her  postman. 


CHAPTER   XXXI 

MY   RIDE   TO    SANTA   ROSA 

THE  next  day  I  started  for  Santa  Rosa. 

"  It  is  a  ride  of  one  hundred  miles  by  rail  and 
eighteen  more  by  wagon,"  said  the  conductor  of 
whom  I  made  inquiry. 

"  Can  I  reach  there  in  good  season  to-night  ? " 

"Yes,  if  you  are  lucky  enough  to  catch  the 
stage  at  Barotera  and  get  through  unmolested." 

"  Unmolested  !     Is  there  any  danger  ? " 

"  Well,  there  have  been  tricks  upon  travellers  of 
late  between  Barotera  and  Santa  Rosa.  The  stage 
was  stopped  and  robbed  two  weeks  ago,  and  a  few 
days  since  the  pay  wagon  was  looted." 

"  Anybody  hurt  ?  " 

"  Yes,  two  or  three  shot." 

"  But  the  authorities  ? " 

"  Oh,  the  authorities  are  active  enough.  The 
Rurales  are  scouring  the  whole  district  and  killing 
every  suspect." 

"  Killing  every  suspect !  You  don't  mean  that 
the  accused  in  such  cases  are  not  given  a  trial  ? " 

191 


1 92  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  Just  what  I  mean.  The  '  Ley  contra  Bandidos, 
Plagiaros  y  Salteadores,'  and  the  '  Ley  Fuga '  give 
the  necessary  authority.  And  under  those  laws, 
which  I  must  say  are  prompt  and  effective,  the 
Rurales  simply  exterminate  the  bad  characters  in 
any  locality  where  such  an  outrage  occurs." 

"  But  are  the  men  not  given  a  hearing  ?  Are 
they  not  first  identified  ? " 

"Well,  yes,  and  the  law  provides  'that  after 
identification  the  culprits  be  summarily  executed.' 
But  the  commander  easily  settles  this  little  detail 
in  his  report  to  headquarters  after  his  return  to 
town." 

"  If  they  have  done  so  in  this  instance  there 
should  be  no  danger  now  between  Barotera  and 
Santa  Rosa." 

"  I  suppose  not,  but  somehow  people  are  timid 
for  a  time." 

Here  was  a  condition  in  my  journey  I  had  not 
anticipated,  and  it  gave  me  some  uneasiness.  My 
anxiety  was  increased  when  on  reaching  Barotera 
I  found  that  the  regular  stage  would  not  run  that 
evening. 

"  El  sol  baja  antes  de  las  seis,"  said  the  stage 
agent,  "  y  habria  tres  horas  de  camino  sin  siquiera 
luna."  (The  sun  sets  before  six,  and  there  will  be 
three  hours  without  a  moon.) 


MY   RIDE   TO   SANTA   ROSA 


193 


"But,  pero,  there  is  no  danger  —  no  peligro; 
the  Rurales  are  here  —  estan  aqui,"  I  said. 

"  Si."  He  gave  a  shrug  that  seemed  to  say 
there  will  be  less  danger  when  the  Rurales  are 
gone. 

Now  I  did  not  come  to  remain  in  Barotera  over 
night.  I  had  heard  from  Craig  of  the  discomforts 
of  such  a  stopping-place,  bad  food,  foul  bed,  and 
worse  bedfellows.  So  I  determined  to  hire  a 
vehicle  and  driver.  I  offered  the  usual  fare  — 
"No,  Senor!"  emphatically  No.  "Double"  — 
"  No,  Sefior,"  but  rather  reluctantly  No.  "  Treble  " 
—  My  offer  was  accepted,  and  soon  I  was  whirling 
along  a  very  good  though  dusty  road  on  the  way 
to  Santa  Rosa. 

The  view  was  a  noble  one.  At  either  hand  the 
level  plain  carpet  covered  with  mesquite  made  a 
vast  stage.  To  the  west  the  blazing  sun  as  it  hung 
low  lit  up  the  whole  vast  range  of  broken  gorges 
and  spiral  peaks,  making  a  sublime  tableau.  Now 
the  sun  balanced  on  an  illuminated  ridge,  now  it 
seemed  to  squat  and  swell,  growing  redder  and 
fiercer  as  if  its  anger  would  consume  the  universe. 
It  did  not  set ;  it  burned  into  the  mountains  and 
left  the  flare  and  flame  of  a  mighty  conflagration. 
I  bathed  my  soul  in  the  glory  of  it. 

Almost  while  the  dazzle  of  the  god  of  day  was 


194  JESUS  DELANEY 

yet  blinding  the  eye,  the  mountains  shot  forth  bane- 
ful shades.  These  deepening,  darkening  black  — 
the  night  came  down.  Elation  vanished  with  the 
light.  In  its  stead  came  a  keen  accusing  sense  of 
my  fool's  errand.  Where  was  I  going  ?  I  knew 
not  What  for  ?  I  could  not  say.  But  this  much 
was  plain.  I  was  alone  at  night  in  a  region  in- 
fested by  robbers.  The  dull  whirl  of  the  wheels, 
the  tramp  of  the  horses'  hoofs,  the  hiss  of  the  con- 
stant whip,  the  queer  cries  of  the  driver,  made  the 
ever  gathering  darkness  more  uncanny. 

"  Uicha !  uicha  !  arri !  arri !  Anden  brutos,  .  .  . 
cuelen  fiojos  .  .  .  upha !  upha  bestias  !  .  .  .  arri 
—  arri  uicha!  .  .  ."  On  we  went  —  the  same 
jarring  monotony  of  wheels,  hoofs,  whip,  and 
jargon. 

"  Aqui,  Senor,  aqui,"  said  my  driver,  turning  sud- 
denly, "aqui  la  diligencia  fue  robada  y  dos  pasa- 
jeros  perdieron  la  vida."  (Here,  sir,  here  the  stage 
was  robbed  and  two  passengers  lost  their  lives.) 
His  beady  eyes  gleamed  and  his  white  teeth  glis- 
tened. "  Uicha !  uicha  !  arri !  arri !  "  -  on  we 
went.  The  night  was  now  a  deep  into  which  we 
seemed  to  plunge.  A  strange  fear  took  posses- 
sion of  me.  Some  premonition  —  call  it  what  you 
will  —  made  me  rise.  There  was  a  shot,  a  wild 
shout,  and  in  an  instant  our  horses  were  seized  and 


MY   RIDE   TO   SANTA   ROSA 


195 


all  about  were  mounted  men,  flourishing  pistols 
and  looking  ferociously  desperate  and  murder- 
ous. 

"  Madre  de  Dios !  "  exclaimed  the  driver,  drop- 
ping his  lines  and  falling  on  his  knees. 

There  was  no  hope  of  resistance.  So,  believing 
that  he  knew  the  proper  behavior  for  such  a  crisis, 
I  too  knelt,  holding  up  my  hands. 

The  leader  came  close  and  asked  me  a  question. 
I  did  not  understand  him.  He  repeated  it  more 
peremptorily,  making  it  still  less  intelligible.  I 
saw  he  was  getting  angry.  "  Responde,"  he 
demanded  sternly.  "  Estoy  Americano,"  I  shouted. 
"  No  can  hablo  your  lingo  —  I  mean  lengua  Es- 
panol."  He  turned  and  spoke  to  the  driver,  whose 
eyes  at  first  rolled,  then  steadied,  then  stared,  and 
his  tongue  at  last  loosened.  Such  a  torrent  as 
came  !  And  as  it  flowed  he  seemed  to  gain  cour- 
age, lowering  his  hands,  rising  from  his  knees, 
coolly  regaining  his  lines,  and  at  last  whirling  his 
whip  and  striking  his  horses,  away  we  went.  I 
could  not  protest.  I  could  only  crouch  low  where 
I  knelt,  expecting  every  instant  the  leaden  death. 
Presently  I  felt  the  hand  of  the  driver  pulling  at 
my  shoulder,  and  as  I  looked  up  he  spoke :  — 

' "  Rurales !     Senor,  son  los  Rurales."     (Rurales  ! 
Sir,  they  are  Rurales.) 


1 96  JESUS   DELANEY 

The  supposed  bandits  were  officers  of  the  law 
searching  the  locality. 

I  resumed  my  seat,  nor  uttered  a  word,  but  dark 
as  it  was  I  could  see  the  burly  body  of  that  driver 
shaking,  and  hear  ever  and  anon  above  the  whirl 
and  prance  and  lash,  the  coarse  chuckle  of  his 
laughter.  "  Uicha !  uicha !  arri !  arri !  "  On  we 
went,  laboring  heavily  up  steep  courses,  still  in 
the  blank  of  darkness.  Mile  after  mile,  the  very 
seconds  dragging  with  the  crunching  wheels,  and 
still  impenetrable,  soulless  darkness.  Again  I  felt 
the  creeping  chill  of  fear,  the  sense  of  impending 
danger.  There  was  a  quick  check  to  our  ascent. 
The  horses  reared,  then  stood  shuddering.  What 
was  coming  ?  Suddenly  as  from  heaven,  yet  so 
near  as  to  be  startling,  there  fell  on  my  ears  a 
deep,  full  baritone  voice  singing  in  English  :  — 

"  And  'twas  from  Aunt  Dinah's  quilting  party 
I  was  seeing  Nelly  home." 

Then  came  a  chorus,  just  such  a  young,  strong, 
hearty  chorus  as  we  used  to  give  at  Annapolis  :  — 

"  I  was  seeing  Nelly  home, 
I  was  seeing  Nelly  home, 
It  was  from  Aunt  Dinah's  quilting  party 
I  was  seeing  Nelly  home." 


MY   RIDE   TO   SANTA  ROSA 


197 


"  Americanos,"  said  the  driver,  grinning. 

Ay,  thank  God,  those  were  American  voices ! 
No  mistaking  that ;  and  in  the  glory  of  that  swell- 
ing chorus  the  darkness  and  my  fear  were  lifted. 

A  few  minutes,  and  several  thousand  dogs  were 
making  noisy  announcement  of  our  arrival  in 
Santa  Rosa. 


CHAPTER  XXXII 

A  JOLLY   PARTY 

WE  inquired  for  the  Reverend  Jesus  Delaney. 
He  was  with  "  Los  Americanos."  I  should  have 
known  it.  Who,  with  any  heart,  within  a  radius  of 
a  mile  could  have  helped  being  drawn  into  that 
chorus  ?  It  was  ringing  out  yet,  louder,  fuller, 
each  young  voice  giving  a  fresh  verse,  each  doubt- 
less having  his  own  idea  of  Nelly  and  the  party 
from  which  he  was  seeing  her  home.  As  our 
vehicle  drew  up  in  front  of  the  long,  low  portico 
where  the  singers  sat,  I  was  joining  in  with  all  my 
strength  of  lung,  so  that  it  happened  when,  sur- 
prised by  our  arrival,  the  chorus  stopped  short,  I 
maintained  my  part  good  and  strong  to  the  end, 
proclaiming  to  the  very  stars  "  I  was  seeing  Nelly 
home." 

Jesus  ran  out  to  welcome  me.  There  was  an 
eager  inquiry  in  face  and  eyes  that  I  at  once 
sought  to  relieve  by  delivering  the  little  missive 
with  which  I  had  been  intrusted.  He  kissed  it 
passionately,  and  without  a  word  disappeared  in 

198 


A  JOLLY   PARTY  199 

the  darkness.  I  had  to  introduce  myself  to  the 
group,  who  greeted  me  cordially. 

"It  is  written  in  the  charter,"  said  one,  "that 
every  American  who  visits  Santa  Rosa  must  spend 
his  first  night  here." 

When  Jesus  returned,  his  face  lit  up  with 
supreme  happiness,  he  found  me  on  good  terms 
with  all,  and  indeed  their  guest.  It  was  the  house 
of  the  Superintendent  of  the  mine,  built  on  a 
narrow  ledge  overlooking  the  village.  With  him 
lived  his  two  brothers,  and  also  the  company  doc- 
tor and  foreman  (none  of  them  over  thirty  years  of 
age),  and  two  visiting  friends,  as  jolly  and  whole- 
souled  a  party  as  you  ever  met.  Jesus  lived  in  the 
village  with  Antonio,  but  found  time  to  spend 
many  an  evening  with  the  boys.  One  of  the 
visitors,  I  could  see,  was  consumptive  (a  type  of 
American  refugee,  alas !  too  frequently  met  in 
Mexico),  tall,  gaunt,  with  bloodless  lips  and  cav- 
ernous eyes.  "Tom  is  picking  up  every  day," 
said  the  Superintendent,  slapping  him  cheerfully 
on  the  back. 

Poor  Tom !  He  knew  and  all  knew  how  near 
the  end,  yet  he  was  as  jovial  as  the  best. 

Three  of  the  young  men  were  college  bred. 
They  had  all  the  old  college  songs  and  some  new 
ones,  and  it  was  their  nightly  pastime  to  gather 


200  JESUS   DELANEY 

on  that  portico  and  sing  while  the  villagers  below 
listened,  and  the  sombre  mountains  all  around  took 
up  the  echoing  chords,  flinging  them  back  and 
forth  until  this  little  world  of  theirs  was  filled  with 
music. 

After  my  long  lonesome  ride  what  a  delight  it 
was !  The  magic  of  their  songs  brought  back 
my  youth  and  made  that  wild  spot  in  the  Sierras 
full  of  moving  memories.  Now  it  was  "  Home 
Again  "  with  its  lingering  pathos,  now  the  rollick- 
ing "  Ram  of  Darbytown,"  Tom  taking  his  turn 
at  a  final  verse  which  told  how  — 

"  The  hoofs  upon  this  ram,  sir, 
They  made  them  into  glue, 
Which  stuck  the  parts  together  again 
Just  as  good  as  new." 

Chorus :  — 

"  Just  as  good  as  new,  sir, 

Just  as  good  as  new. 
It  stuck  the  parts  together  again, 
Just  as  good  as  new." 

Jesus  did  not  join  this,  but  his  turn  came  when 
the  grand  baritone  of  the  young  Superintendent, 
the  same  that  first  caught  my  ears  down  in  the 
canon,  soared  forth  in  "  The  Sweet  By  and  By." 

Oh,  the  ineffable,  never  failing  promise  of  the 
words  !  The  exaltation  of  the  music  ! 


A  JOLLY  PARTY  2OI 

The  chorus  of  the  second  verse  was  swelling  sub- 
lime :  — 

"  In  the  sweet  by  and  by 
We  shall  meet  on  that  beautiful  shore, 
In  the  sweet  —  " 

There  was  a  sudden,  almost  simultaneous,  pause, 
and  all  except  Jesus  began  a  rhythmic,  muffled  pat- 
ting with  hands  and  knees. 

"  Get  there,  Caesar !  Get  there !  "  they  shouted, 
keeping  up  the  shuffling  time  beat.  What  could 
the  madcaps  mean  ? 

"Get  there,  Caesar!  Get  there!"  Along  the 
path  was  approaching  a  figure  carrying  a  lantern. 
Soon  I  saw  the  unmistakable  gait  and  features  of 
a  negro.  It  was  the  huge,  colored  watchman  on 
his  way  to  the  mine. 

" Get  there,  Caesar !  Get  there!"  Even  Jesus 
was  now  patting  with  the  rest.  The  negro  strove 
to  pass  with  solemn  dignity.  He  seemed  to  resent 
and  rebuke  their  levity.  But  as  if  yielding  to  a 
spell  that  defied  resistance,  he  paused.  Then  rip- 
pled over  his  face  a  grin  such  as  God  has  given  no 
other  race.  Unconsciously  his  head  and  body  be- 
gan to  sway,  irresistibly  his  feet  began  to  shuffle, 
in  spite  of  himself  down  went  the  lantern,  off  went 
his  hat,  and  he  danced  to  their  patting.  And  such 
a  grotesque  dance  it  was !  They  cheered  and 


202  JESUS   DELANEY 

patted  and  patted  and  cheered,  urging  him  on, 
faster  and  harder  till  he  and  they  were  exhausted 
with  the  mirth  of  it. 

But  the  dancing  fit  was  on. 

"  Get  your  banjo,  Tom,"  said  the  Superintendent. 
Tom  got  his  banjo  and  twankled  away.  The 
Superintendent  himself  (they  called  him  Sam)  first 
took  the  floor.  He  was  terribly  in  earnest,  face 
resolute  and  stern. 

"  Get  there,  Sam !  "  they  cried,  and  he  did,  to 
their  hearts'  content. 

"  Now  Doc !  "  It  was  the  doctor's  turn.  "Get 
there,  Doc ! "  And  setting  at  defiance  every 
decorous  tradition  of  his  profession,  the  doctor 
pranced,  kicked,  and  capered  till  the  grim  Sierras 
shook  their  sides. 

One  followed  the  other.  Would  they  spare  Jesus  ? 
I  became  uneasy.  It  was  unseemly  enough  in  a 
doctor,  but  in  a  minister  of  the  Gospel,  —  spare 
him  ?  No  !  "  Get  there,  Jesus  !  "  And  let  it  be 
recorded,  Jesus  got  there. 

No  lineal  ancestor  of  Don  Patricio  at  a  wake 
ever  stepped  it  more  sprightly.  None  of  his 
Spanish  kindred  were  ever  more  graceful  at  a  fan- 
dango, and,  oh  that  it  must  be  told !  there  was  a 
certain  uncouth  fury  in  some  of  his  motions,  ac- 
cented now  and  then  by  a  wild,  ringing  whoop  that 
told  too  plainly  of  the  aborigine. 


CHAPTER   XXXIII 

A   PROSPEROUS    MISSION 

THE  mission  labors  of  Jesus  at  Santa  Rosa,  I 
learned,  had  been  marvellously  successful.  From 
the  very  first  the  simple  miners  were  well  disposed. 
His  earnest  words,  his  kindly  ways,  won  at  once 
their  confidence.  Instead  of  a  slow  struggle  to 
catch  an  occasional  straggler,  as  at  Alameda,  he 
found  here  a  whole  community  ripe  for  conversion. 
There  was  no  malign  influence.  Not  a  priest 
had  visited  the  spot  for  months.  Indeed,  the  only 
visible  trace  of  Rome  was  a  ruined  church  built  no 
one  knew  when,  and  now  used  as  a  sheepfold. 

The  ground  was  fallow. 

Whole  families  had  already  made  open  profes- 
sion of  faith.  The  few  who  could  read  had  Bibles, 
and  from  nearly  every  house  idolatrous  pictures 
of  saints  had  been  exorcised.  Jesus  beamed  with 
pride  in  telling  me  this. 

"  In  good  time,"  he  said,  "  I  am  sure  I  shall 
make  them  throw  away  their  statues  of  the  Virgin." 

His  first  convert  was  a  miner  named  Mendez, 
203 


204  JESUS   DELANEY 

foreman  of  one  of  the  levels,  and  to  Mendez'  in- 
fluence and  example  Jesus  attributed  much  of  his 
success.  It  gave  me  great  satisfaction  to  see  him 
so  enthusiastic. 

I  went  to  the  first  service  held  after  my  arrival. 
It  was  in  the  open  air,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the 
whole  population  was  in  attendance.  Doubtless 
many  of  them  came  through  curiosity,  but  there 
was  surely  a  large  number  like  Mendez,  thor- 
oughly sincere.  Jesus  prayed  and  Mendez  prayed. 
Then  followed  a  song.  The  singing  at  first  was 
timid  and  scattering,  but  took  heart  at  the  second 
verse,  increasing  and  strengthening  still  more  at 
the  third,  and  swelling  magnificently  thereafter. 
They  are  fond  of  music,  those  Mexicans,  and  know 
a  good  song  when  they  hear  it.  To  me,  however, 
it  took  away  a  great  deal  of  the  effect  to  hear 
"  Hold  the  fort,  for  I  am  coming,"  given  as  "  Man- 
tened  el  baluarte  que  ya  vengo,"  and  it  seemed 
like  sacrilege  to  sing  "The  sweet  by  and  by" 
to  the  words  "  Dulce  mas  alia."  But  I  got  used 
to  it,  although  I  stuck  to  the  good  old  English 
text  myself,  even  if  I  did  confuse  the  black-faced 
chaps  about  me. 

Jesus  preached  in  Spanish.  The  lad  is  un- 
doubtedly an  orator  in  that  language,  fervent, 
graceful,  fluent.  They  hung  on  his  words.  I 


A  PROSPEROUS  MISSION  205 

saw  women  weep  and  the  faces  of  men  sadden. 
There  were  sobs  at  times,  and  when  he  knelt  to 
pray,  the  multitude  knelt  with  him.  My  soul 
kindled.  I  felt  more  satisfied  then  with  missionary 
work  than  at  any  time  since  coming  to  Mexico. 

"  There  will  be  a  spiritual  revolution  in  Santa 
Rosa,"  said  I  to  the  boys  that  night.  "  Can  you  not 
see  a  change  already  in  the  habits  of  those  men  ? " 

"  I  see  a  change  in  some  of  them,"  said  Mowry, 
"they  are  inclined  to  shirk  work  on  the  pretext 
of  going  to  prayer  meeting." 

Mowry,  I  perceived,  while  a  good  fellow  in  his 
way,  was  rather  inclined  to  cynicism. 

"Well,"  said  I,  "the  change  may  not  come  as 
quickly  as  I  think,  but  come  it  will.  Those  songs 
and  prayers  such  as  I  heard  to-night  —  " 

"Go  in  one  ear  and  out  of  the  other,"  said  Mowry. 
"  You  cannot  with  a  song  or  a  prayer  change  con- 
stitutional conditions.  Those  greasers  will  remain 
substantially  as  nature  made  them,  whatever  their 
temporary  emotions. 

"What  good,"  he  continued,  "has  singing  and 
praying  done  for  our  own  Indians  ? " 

"  What  do  you  say  if  we  try  what  good  a  song 
will  do  for  ourselves  ? "  said  the  Superintendent, 
and  on  the  word  his  baritone  once  more  rang  out, 
"  I  was  seeing  Nelly  home." 


CHAPTER  XXXIV 

THE   ACCIDENT 

I  LIKED  my  stay  at  Santa  Rosa.  Not  to  speak  of 
the  pleasant  companionship  of  my  hosts,  nor  the 
great  interest  I  took  in  the  mission,  it  was  rare  en- 
joyment to  sit  on  that  portico  and  watch  the  sun- 
baked village  below,  the  miners  going  and  coming, 
and  the  little  ore-laden  cars  roaring  down  the  iron 
rails  which  led  from  the  mouth  of  the  mine. 
Night  and  day  those  cars  went  by,  confirming 
my  sound-money  doctrine  that  there  is  too  much 
silver.  But  what  pleased  me  most  was  the  con- 
stant courtesy  of  the  miners. 

I  had  seen  miners  at  the  coal  mines  of  Pennsyl- 
vania and  at  the  iron  mines  of  Michigan,  and  they 
always  seemed  to  me  an  overworked,  gloomy  set, 
sullen  and  ill.  But  these  cheery  Mexicans  saluted 
me  graciously  every  time  they  passed.  I  could 
hear  their  songs  as  they  went  to  work  before  day- 
light, and  I  loved  to  see  and  hear  them  come  sing- 
ing home  at  night.  Nothing  seemed  to  ruffle  their 
smooth  manners.  I  saw  one  salute  the  doctor  by 

206 


THE  ACCIDENT  207 

raising  to  his  sombrero  a  hand  just  crushed  out  of 
shape  by  an  accident,  and  while  the  wound  was  be- 
ing dressed,  even  while  cruel  stitches  were  being 
drawn  through  the  quivering  flesh,  he  smoked  a 
cigarette  or  joked  with  his  comrades,  nor  did  the 
latter  seem  to  regard  him  with  any  sympathy. 

"  Would  you  not  like  to  visit  the  mine  ? "  said 
Jesus,  late  one  afternoon.  It  was  the  very  thing 
I  was  thinking  of,  and  off  we  started.  A  footpath 
skirting  the  little  railroad  led  to  the  mouth  of  the 
mine.  Here  a  huge  engine  performed  the  double 
duty  of  pumping  out  the  water  and  lowering  and 
raising  the  cars  from  the  several  levels.  We  stood 
and  watched  the  process.  Out  of  the  dark  hole 
which  gaped  before  us  would  come  a  loaded  car 
drawn  by  a -heavy  cable,  from  which  it  was  skil- 
fully unhooked  by  a  Mexican  in  waiting,  who 
leaped  aboard  to  manage  the  brake  as  it  flew 
down  the  little  railroad  to  the  dump.  Another 
would  then  push  forward  an  empty  car,  attach 
the  cable,  and  springing  on  it  when  it  reached 
the  hole,  be  swallowed  in  the  darkness.  Pop- 
ping out  and  plunging  in,  one  after  another,  night 
and  day  the  work  went  unceasingly  forward. 
Detaching  the  cable  from  the  car  that  came  up 
and  attaching  it  to  the  car  going  down  was  done 
with  dare-devil  deftness.  Never  had  I  seen  brake- 


208  JESUS   DELANEY 

men  couple  cars  with  more  recklessness  or  skill. 
As  we  stood  looking,  Mowry  shot  out  of  the  hole 
as  nonchalantly  as  if  stepping  from  a  street  car. 

"  How  deep  is  that  shaft  ? "  I  asked. 

"  Twelve  hundred  feet  to  the  lowest  level." 

"  And  the  angle  ? " 

"  Thirty-five  degrees." 

"  We're  not  working  the  lowest  level  now  ;  it  is 
filled  with  water  —  fully  one  hundred  feet  of  water 
at  the  bottom  of  that  hole.  But  we  are  working 
the  one-thousand-foot  level,  and  she  shows  up  rich. 
Look  at  that  ore." 

A  car  had  come  up  bearing  the  Superintendent. 

"  Do  you  want  to  go  down,  gentlemen  ? "  he 
asked. 

"Yes,"  said  Jesus,  "let  us  go." 

But  my  mind  had  changed.  I  had  some  curi- 
osity to  see  that  rich  ore  of  the  one-thousand- 
foot  level,  but  not  enough  to  risk  such  a  ride. 

"  There's  no  danger,"  they  urged. 

"  Probably  not ;  but  what  if  that  cable  should 
part?" 

"  That  cable  would  stand  the  strain  of  fifty  such 
cars,"  said  the  Superintendent,  laughing. 

"Well,  your  engine,  the  machinery  ?" 

"Are  in  thoroughly  good  shape." 

"  Come  on,"  said  Jesus.     "  Let  us  go  down." 


THE  ACCIDENT 


209 


He  and  the  Superintendent  got  in  the  empty 
car,  but  I  still  hesitated.  Just  then  a  car  came  up 
bearing  Sefior  Mendez. 

"  Lo  necesitan  a  Usted  abajo  inmediatamente," 
said  he  to  the  Superintendent,  who  was  wanted 
down  at  once. 

"  Que  sucede  ?  Algo  de  malo  ?  "  (What's  the 
matter  ?  Anything  wrong  ?) 

"  No,  Sefior,  pero  creo  que  hemos  topado  rica 
vena."  (No,  sir,  but  I  believe  we  have  struck  a 
rich  vein.) 

"  Well,  let  us  go,"  said  the  Superintendent,  and 
Mendez  having  no  thought  of  me  pushed  the  car 
forward. 

"  Come  on !    Jump  in !  "  shouted  Jesus  to  me. 

Mendez  turned. 

The  car  was  already  on  the  verge. 

I  shook  my  head. 

Mendez  gave  a  final  shove  and  the  car  plunged 
downward  —  without  the  cable. 

I  heard  the  awful  shriek  of  the  doomed  men 
and  lost  consciousness,  but  only  for  an  instant. 

Coupling  the  cable  to  a  car,  Mowry  and  a 
miner  sprang  into  it  and  I  went  with  them. 

Down  that  awful  descent  we  went,  the  dark- 
ness relieved  only  by  a  feeble  candle  in  the  cap  of 
the  miner. 


210  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  There  is  no  hope  for  them,"  Mowry  whispered. 
"  None !  Dashed  to  death  !  "  and  the  strong  man 
whom  we  had  called  cynical  sobbed  aloud. 

Down,  ever  down,  passing  the  different  levels, 
at  each  of  which  were  horror-stricken  faces  whose 
staring  eyes  flashed  upon  us.  Then  the  speed  of 
our  descent  slackened,  slower,  more  slowly,  while 
the  cable  creaked  and  groaned. 

"  We  are  nearing  the  end.  O  God,  what  a 
fate  !  "  said  Mowry. 

We  could  see  below  the  cold  gleaming  water. 
We  strained  our  eyes.  "  Sam  !  "  shouted  Mowry. 
"Sam ! " 

We  listened. 

No  answer.  No  sound  save  the  groan  of  the 
cable. 

"  Jesus  !  "  I  shouted.     "  Jesus  !  " 

"Safe!!!" 

It  was  his  voice  !     Thank  God  ! 

And  there  he  was  with  the  head  of  the  Superin- 
tendent on  his  lap  and  the  body  of  Mendez  lying 
motionless  beside  them. 

How  we  got  all  three  into  the  car,  signalled,  and 
rose  to  life  and  light  again,  I  will  never  remember. 
One  thought  only  filled  my  heart  to  bursting,  Jesus 
was  uninjured  ! 

He  could  only  tell  us  of  the  heavy  car  with  its 


THE   ACCIDENT  211 

human  freight  dashing  down  that  sheer  descent, 
but  of  the  dreadful  plunge  into  the  water  he  had 
no  memory  whatever.  He  could  not  even  recall 
how  he  or  his  companions  reached  the  place  where 
we  found  them. 

The  Superintendent  soon  recovered  conscious- 
ness. He  had  escaped  with  a  few  bruises. 
But  poor  Mendez !  His  spine  was  fatally 
hurt. 

"He  may  live  a  day,"  said  the  doctor;  "there  is 
no  hope." 

We  stood  about  him  while  the  doctor  labored  to 
restore  consciousness.  Jesus  refused  to  leave,  even 
at  the  doctor's  order,  but  sat  chafing  the  cold  hands 
and  gazing  pitifully  on  the  pale  face.  Soon  the 
lids  trembled,  lifted,  the  eyes  wandered  vaguely 
for  a  while,  then  closed. 

A  spasm  of  agony.  Again  the  eyes  opened,  and 
this  time  rested  on  Jesus.  Never  will  I  forget 
their  shuddering  terror.  He  drew  away  his  hands 
convulsively. 

"  Un  Padre  !  "  he  murmured.  "  Mandenme  un 
Padre ! " 

He  was  calling  for  a  priest. 

Jesus  bent  forward  with  words  of  sympathy  and 
spiritual  consolation. 

"  Pon  tu  fe  en  Dios  y  no  en  los  hombres,"  he 


212  JESUS   DELANEY 

said,  telling  him  to  put  his  faith  in  God,  not  in  man, 
but  Mendez  repulsed  him. 

"  Estoy  muriendo  !  Manden  por  un  Padre !  " 
(I  am  dying  !  Send  for  a  priest !)  Still  that  cry 
for  the  priest ! 

In  the  fear  and  agony  of  death  the  ancient  faith 
had  triumphed. 

"  Un  Padre  !  "  he  shrieked.  "  Demonic,  quieres 
mandar  mi  alma  al  infierno  con  todos  sus  pecados  ? 
Un  Padre  !  "  (Devil !  Do  you  want  to  send  my 
soul  to  hell  with  all  its  sins  ?) 

Jesus  rose.     He  was  very  pale. 

"  Si,  Hermano,  tendras  un  padre,  yo  te  lo 
buscare\ 

"  He  shall  have  a  priest.  I  myself  will  go  for 
one,"  he  said.  And  without  changing  his  dripping 
clothes  he  mounted  a  horse  and  flew  down  the 
trail. 

The  nearest  priest  was  at  Barotera. 


CHAPTER  XXXV 

JESUS   BRINGS   A   PRIEST 

AT  the  hour  of  midnight  a  vehicle  drove  into 
Santa  Rosa.  The  horses,  covered  with  foam  and 
dust,  drew  up  before  the  jacal  of  Mendez. 

The  whole  village  was  gathered  there  —  men, 
women,  and  children.  In  the  vehicle  with  Jesus 
were  a  young  man  of  clerical  appearance  and 
a  boy.  The  man  was  a  priest.  He  bore  in  his 
hands  a  large  silver  crucifix. 

The  boy  dismounted  first,  and  when  his  feet 
touched  the  ground  he  rang  a  little  bell.  In- 
stantly every  head  was  uncovered,  every  knee 
bent,  and  the  priest  passed  through  the  prostrate 
crowd  on  his  way  to  the  dying  man. 

"  Let  us  go,  Jesus,"  I  said. 

He  looked  up  at  me,  then  at  the  kneeling  multi- 
tude —  the  same  people  he  had  addressed  the 
night  before  and  to  whom  he  had  been  denouncing 
superstition.  He  sighed,  passed  his  hands  wearily 
over  his  eyes  and  walked  away. 

Mendez  died  before  morning,  and  was  buried 
213 


214  JESUS   DELANEY 

according  to  the  rites  of  his  church.  In  front 
of  his  jacal  an  altar  had  been  hastily  erected. 
From  every  hut  came  contributions  of  little  trin- 
kets to  adorn  it,  —  ribbons,  lace,  even  rings  from 
fingers  and  ears.  Here  mass  was  solemnly  said, 
and  among  the  most  devout  worshippers  I  observed 
the  active  participants  in  the  prayer  meeting. 
And  all  day  the  young  priest  remained  in  the 
jacal  while  penitent  after  penitent  came  to 
confession. 

That  night  Jesus  was  to  hold  his  usual  services. 
He  came,  waited,  prayed,  but  his  only  attendant 
was  Antonio. 

***** 

We  were  gathered  on  the  portico  discussing  the 
events  of  the  day,  when  he  came  toward  us  look- 
ing downcast  and  hopeless.  Nobody  commented 
on  what  he  had  done.  Indeed,  for  some  time  not 
a  word  was  said.  At  last  Mowry  spoke  up  :  — 

"What  a  curious  custom  that  is  among  the 
Mexicans,  to  make  a  legal  ceremony  of  an  engage- 
ment." 

"  How  do  you  mean  ?  "  I  questioned. 

"Why,  a  couple  who  wish  to  be  regularly 
engaged  go  before  a  civil  judge,  make  formal 
declaration  of  the  fact,  and  that  declaration  is  duly 
published  for  all  whom  it  may  concern." 


JESUS   BRINGS   A   PRIEST  215 

"  I  guess  that's  one  of  Howry's  stories,"  said 
the  doctor. 

"  No  !  Honor  bright  —  I  read  it  in  the  Spanish 
paper,  El  Eco  of  Alameda,  which  came  by  to- 
night's mail,  and  publishes  the  formal  legal  notice 
of  an  engagement." 

"  Don't  believe  it  yet,"  said  the  doctor,  tantaliz- 
ingly. 

"  Well,  I'll  get  the  paper  and  read  it  for  you." 

We  were  all  glad  of  something  to  divert  us  from 
the  topic  which  weighed  most  upon  our  minds. 
He  returned. 

"  Here  it  is.  Listen  !  "  and  he  read  in  Spanish 
a  formal  legal  declaration  of  the  engagement  of 
Senor  Benavides  and  Marie  Romero. 

I  heard  a  groan ;  Jesus  had  fallen. 

The  doctor  sprang  to  his  aid.  "  Overexerted 
himself,"  said  he,  "that  long  ride  in  wet  clothes." 

We  carried  him  tenderly  into  the  house,  but  no 
sooner  was  he  laid  on  the  bed  than  he  tried  to 
get  up. 

"  Don't  rise,"  said  the  doctor,  "  stay  here 
to-night." 

"  No !  I  must  go  home,"  he  said  feebly ;  "  I 
must  go  at  once." 

Nor  could  we  dissuade  him.  I  took  his  arm, 
and  we  walked  from  the  house.  He  was  silent 


2i6  JESUS  DELANEY 

until  we  reached  the  bridge  which  spanned  the 
gorge.  There  he  spoke.  "  I  must  see  her !  I 
will  go  to  her  now ! " 

"Well,  we  will  talk  of  that  in  the  morning, 
Jesus;  get  a  good  night's  rest,  my  boy." 

"  I  must  go  now,"  he  said. 

"  What !     Leave  your  work  here  ? " 

"  My  work  here !     Look ! " 

He  pointed  below.  Upon  the  altar  erected 
before  the  house  of  Mendez,  and  lit  with  a 
hundred  candles,  stood  the  priest  in  his  robes  hold- 
ing aloft  a  glittering  chalice !  The  bell  tinkled, 
the  great  crowd  knelt  with  bowed  heads. 
***** 

Within  an  hour,  the  stage  carried  away  from 
Santa  Rosa  the  same  passengers  it  had  brought 
the  night  before,  with  the  addition  of  myself  and 
Antonio. 


CHAPTER  XXXVI 

THE   PADRE   AND    MY   PREJUDICES 

I  CONFESS  to  a  prejudice  against  priests  It 
gave  me  a  very  unpleasant  feeling  to  know  that 
here  I  was  sitting  with  my  knees  touching  the 
knees  of  one  at  every  jar  of  the  stage  —  a  posi- 
tion I  would  have  to  maintain  for  four  mortal 
hours.  Yet  there  was  some  comfort  in  the  fact 
that  his  presence  would  be  a  safeguard  against 
bandits,  and  I  so  remarked  to  Jesus. 

The  priest  evidently  overheard  me,  for  he 
smiled  and  shook  his  head. 

"  I  fear,"  said  he,  "my  holy  office  affords  you 
no  security." 

"Why,  they  would  not  molest  you,"  I  said, 
surprised  at  his  good  English. 

"  Molest  me  ?  Less  than  a  month  ago  they 
broke  into  a  church  a  few  miles  from  Alameda, 
stole  the  chalice  from  the  altar,  and  killed  the 
aged  pastor." 

This  was  news  to  me.  I  had  always  a  dim 
sort  of  idea  that  such  wretches  preyed  on  the 

217 


2i8  JESUS   DELANEY 

general  public,  and  then  sought  and  received 
absolution  from  priests  in  consideration  of  a  part 
of  the  spoils.  So  I  ventured  an  unobtrusive 
feeler. 

"  But  these  bandits  have  all  religious  convic- 
tions, have  they  not  ? "  I  did  not  like  to  say, 
"they  are  all  Catholics,"  but  that's  what  I 
meant. 

"So  has  every  immortal  soul,"  he  replied  sol- 
emnly; "and  yet  sin  and  crime  continue  the  world 
over." 

"There  seems  rather  more  of  this  particular 
sin  and  crime  in  Mexico  than  elsewhere,"  I 
responded. 

"  Possibly.  Yet  considering  that  we  have  an 
Indian  population  of  eight  millions,  we  are  not 
doing  so  badly.  You  have  an  Indian  population 
of  less  than  two  hundred  thousand,  and  your  whole 
standing  army  is  busy  keeping  them  in  bounds." 

"You  don't  claim  that  these  outlaws  are  all 
Indians  ? "  I  asked. 

"  No,  some  few  are  of  a  mixed  race,  just  as 
some  few  of  the  outlaws  in  your  Indian  Territory, 
where  in  the  past  six  months  there  are  said  to 
have  been  over  two  hundred  murders.  Ameri- 
cans ought  to  consider  the  Indian  element  of  our 
population  and  make  allowance." 


THE  PADRE  AND  MY  PREJUDICES        219 

"The  Spaniards  did  not  have  that  considera- 
tion when  they  seized  this  country  and  made 
slaves  of  the  aborigines."  I  could  see  he  was 
a  Spaniard. 

"I  will  not  defend  the  Spanish  conquerors. 
The  lust  of  avarice  and  power  have  always  led 
to  cruelty  and  wrong.  Yet  if  comparison  must 
be  made,  Indians  have  certainly  fared  better  with 
Spaniards  than  with  Anglo-Saxons,"  and  he  smiled 
pleasantly. 

"  How  is  that,  sir  ? "  I  demanded. 

"  Well,  the  Indians  in  Mexico  are  still  a  people, 
the  Indians  of  the  United  States  are  nearly  ex- 
tinct. Your  doctrine  in  their  treatment  seems  to 
have  been  that  of  your  famous  Sheridan,  '  A  good 
Indian  is  a  dead  Indian.' ' 

Jesus  had  sat  silent  and  moody  while  we  talked, 
not  appearing  to  be  listening,  but  suddenly  he 
broke  forth,  "  Better  dead  than  in  the  degraded 
spiritual  state  to  which  they  have  been  reduced 
in  Mexico." 

It  was  blunt,  but  to  the  point,  and  I  rejoiced 
at  this  needed  reinforcement. 

"Who  shall  presume  to  speak  of  the  dead?" 
said  the  priest.  "  The  spiritual  state  of  any  man 
rests  between  his  conscience  and  his  God." 

"Yes,  between   his    conscience   and   his    God, 


220  JESUS   DELANEY 

but  not  between  a  priest  and  his  God."  That  was 
a  centre  shot. 

"Sir,"  said  the  priest  with  an  unexpected  dig- 
nity, "you  mistake  the  functions  of  a  priest." 

"No!"  retorted  Jesus,  hotly,  "it  is  the  priest 
who  mistakes  his  functions.  Why  should  that 
dying  man  confess  to  you  when  the  ear  of  God 
was  open  to  him?  Why  should  that  multitude 
kneel  at  the  tinkle  of  your  bell  and  prostrate 
themselves  at  the  sight  of  your  chalice  ?  Why 
should  they  not  see  that  the  Father  of  all  is 
everywhere,  His  voice  in  the  winds,  His  glory  in 
all  the  heavens  ? "  Jesus  was  giving  it  to  him 
straight  from  the  shoulder.  But  the  priest  took 
his  punishment  gamely. 

"  You  are  a  Christian,"  he  said  in  his  soft  musi- 
cal voice.  "  You  believe  in  the  omnipresence  and 
omnipotence  of  God,  yet  when  you  are  ill  you  send 
for  a  physician.  Why  ?  Because  with  all  your 
faith  you  know  the  physician  has  studied  better 
than  yourself  the  physical  being.  When  spiritu- 
ally ill,  why  should  you  not  call  a  priest  who  you 
know  has  studied  better  than  yourself  the  spiritual 
being  ? " 

Now  this  was  an  ingenious  way  of  putting  it.  I 
confess  to  its  puzzling  me.  But  Jesus  promptly 
rejoined :  — 


THE   PADRE   AND   MY   PREJUDICES        22I 

"  We  know,  however,  that  the  physician's  power 
to  do  good  is  limited  to  his  knowledge,  and  when 
he  pretends  a  knowledge  that  is  .not  his,  he  is 
a  quack  and  a  charlatan."  Good  !  Exactly  my 
idea  !  There  he  had  him  —  a  quack  and  charla- 
tan !  It  was  just  grand  to  see  the  boy  thoroughly 
at  home  with  these  great  truths. 

"True,"  answered  the  Romanist;  "but  as  there 
is  no  need  of  the  physician  assuming  unwarranted 
knowledge,  neither  is  there  need  of  the  priest  as- 
suming unwarranted  power." 

"  But  he  does  so,"  retorted  Jesus.  "  Does  he 
not  arrogate  to  himself  and  usurp  the  divine  power 
to  forgive  sins  ?  "  Good  again  !  I  rubbed  my 
hands  with  delight  and  looked  at  the  priest. 

"Not  at  all,"  said  he,  firmly.  "A  power  dele- 
gated is  not  usurped." 

"  What !  Do  you  deny  that  you  told  the  dying 
man  last  night  that  his  sins  were  forgiven  ? " 

Now,  thought  I,  he  must  either  acknowledge  the 
corn  or  crawl. 

"  I  told  the  dying  man  that  if  his  repentance 
was  sincere,  his  sins  were  forgiven  him.  Would 
you  not  have  told  him  the  same  ? "  he  questioned. 

Jesus  was  silent. 

"  I  told  the  dying  man  of  God's  infinite  love  and 
infinite  mercy,  how  he  had  but  to  repent  and  He 


222  JESUS   DELANEY 

who  gave  His  only  beloved  Son  for  the  sinner 
would  see  that  he  was  saved.  I  heard  his  sins 
as  the  physician  would  have  heard  his  symptoms. 
I  saw  as  God  gives  me  to  see  their  gravity.  I 
pointed  out  the  only  reparation  left  for  him,  re- 
pentance, absolute,  heartful.  I  believed  that  this 
repentance  came,  and  that  my  efforts  helped  to 
bring  it,  and  believing  this,  I  smoothed  the  last  sad 
agony  of  time  with  the  glorious  promise  of  eternity. 
Would  you  not  have  done  the  same  ? " 

Jesus  did  not  respond. 

"  If  the  tinkle  of  that  tiny  bell,"  he  continued, 
"  called  the  poor  unlettered  multitude  to  prayer,  if 
the  elevation  of  the  sacred  host  roused  in  their 
simple  minds  the  thought  of  Him  who  gave  His 
life  for  them,  would  you  condemn  it  ? "  There 
was  honest  feeling  in  the  mellow  voice. 

I  never  thought  to  listen  to  one  of  his  cloth, 
much  less  to  listen  with  any  glimmering  conscious- 
ness of  conviction,  but  what  could  be  said  ? 

"  There  are  doctors,"  he  continued,  "  who  abuse 
their  noble  calling,  there  are  priests  unworthy  of 
their  sacred  office.  But  Christian  men  should 
never  on  that  account  deem  all  bad  or  blamable." 

There  was  a  long  pause. 

Jesus  then  spoke  in  an  altered,  almost  apologetic 
tone :  "  I  mean  no  reflection  on  the  good  priest," 


THE   PADRE   AND   MY   PREJUDICES        223 

he  said ;  "  but  I  do  insist  that  the  soul  in  need  of 
peace  must  look  to  God  alone." 

"  Yet,"  said  the  priest,  softly,  "  you  believe  that 
God  sent  His  only  on  Son  earth  in  the  form  of 
man  for  man's  redemption.  God  knew  human 
nature.  Those  who  closed  their  eyes  and  hearts 
to  Him  opened  them  to  the  man  Christ." 

"  To  Christ,  yes,"  said  Jesus ;  "  but  let  no  man 
dare  take  the  place  of  Christ." 

I  was  glad  to  see  Jesus  had  rallied. 

"  Christ,"  answered  the  priest,  "  delegated  the 
continuance  of  His  mission  to  His  apostles,  and 
they  to  their  successors  in  unbroken  line  to  this 
day." 

"  I  deny  such  divine  succession  in  the  priests  of 
Rome,"  said  Jesus. 

"  We  will  not  discuss  that,"  responded  the  priest, 
good-humoredly.  "  Your  history  and  mine,  draw- 
ing as  they  do  from  different  conflicting  sources, 
would  likely  lead  us  to  opposing  camps.  But 
let  us  see,  my  friend,  if  we  can  find  a  common 
ground." 

Jesus  shook  his  head.  There  could  be  no  com- 
mon ground  between  them.  The  priest  continued : 
"  Whosoever  professes  to  be  a  minister  of  God,  and 
believes  in  his  soul  the  righteousness  of  his  divine 
mission  while  working  on  the  lines  laid  down  by 


224  JESUS   DELANEY 

Christ  Himself  and  followed  by  His  apostles,  must 
do  good." 

"  I  agree  to  that,"  said  Jesus,  cordially. 

The  priest  smiled  benignantly  and  went  on : 
"  Such  a  man,  whatever  his  oddities  of  dogma,  is 
anchored  fast  in  the  fundamental  truths  of  faith, 
hope,  and  love.  For  my  part,  while  a  priest  of  the 
Catholic  church  and  yielding  to  none  in  my  devout 
loyalty  to  all  her  teachings,  I  can  take  the  hand 
of  such  a  man,  whatever  his  creed,  and  call  him 
brother." 

"  Shake, "  said  I,  impulsively,  and  there  I  was 
shaking  the  hand  of  a  priest  as  if  I  had  met  a 
long-lost  friend. 


CHAPTER  XXXVII 

MISS  ROMERO  AND  HER  COACHMAN 

OFTEN  on  the  way  to  Alameda  did  I  renew  my 
efforts  with  Jesus,  but  to  no  avail.  He  never  an- 
swered me,  nor  even  seemed  to  hear.  Once, 
however,  when  I  urged  that  the  formal  engage- 
ment of  Miss  Romero  with  Benavides  settled  the 
matter,  he  broke  out :  — 

"  I  must  have  it  from  her  own  lips  that  she  weds 
him  willingly.  I  must  see  her  face  to  face." 

Then  he  relapsed  into  gloomy  silence.  Again, 
without  a  word  of  mine,  as  if  forced  from  him  by 
the  heat  of  heart  and  brain,  he  exclaimed  aloud :  — 

"  She  must  not  marry  him !  She  shall  not !  " 
And  his  voice  had  a  strange  sound,  and  on  his 
face  there  came  that  ferocious  curl  of  the  lip  and 
the  savage  gleam  of  eyes  and  teeth.  It  gave  me 
a  chill  of  apprehension.  What  might  he  not  do  ? 
But  it  was  useless  to  reason.  For  the  first  time  in 
our  acquaintance,  he  omitted  his  usual  elaborate 
courtesies  in  leave-taking.  He  walked  from  me 
Q  225 


226  JESUS   DELANEY 

almost  rudely  with  long,  quick  strides,  Antonio 
following  like  a  grotesque  shadow. 

I  went  to  the  Institute  and  informed  the  Rever- 
end Lamb  of  the  abrupt  ending  of  the  Santa  Rosa 
mission.  He  lost  his  temper. 

"The  fool!  The  ass!"  he  almost  shouted, 
walking  about  the  room.  "He  should  be  horse- 
whipped !  "  Nobody  looks  well  in  anger,  and  the 
Reverend  Lamb  as  he  spoke  was  actually  repul- 
sive. "  In  love !  The  crazy,  greasy  lout !  The 
Mexican  hound !  "  Neither  in  features  nor  lan- 
guage could  I  recall  the  bland,  benign,  amiable 
missionary,  much  less  the  apostle  of  Him  who 
prayed  for  those  who  crucified  Him. 

After  a  while,  by  a  series  of  alternate  snorts  and 
gulps,  he  recovered  his  composure,  hastened  thereto 
doubtless  by  furtive  glimpses  of  my  palpable  dis- 
gust. But  the  harsh  lines  of  his  face  were  still  un- 
easy, as  he  said  with  a  whining  voice  and  manner :  — 

"  It  is  a  sad  blow  to  our  hopes  if  the  seed  so 
carefully  nurtured  and  which  grew  to  so  promising 
a  flower  should  now  burst  to  fruit  —  the  dead-sea 
fruit  of  ashes.  A  sad  blow  to  the  Institute." 

"  Whom  have  you  in  his  place  ? "  I  asked.  There 
was  a  gentle  tap  at  the  door,  and  in  glided,  with 
the  soft  tread  of  a  cat,  Brother  Baez,  alias  Doctor 
Medina.  He  bowed  to  me,  but  I  did  not  respond, 


MISS   ROMERO   AND   HER   COACHMAN 


227 


addressed  the  Reverend  Lamb  in  Spanish,  bowed 
to  me  again,  and  softly  and  smoothly  retired. 

I  did  not  think  it  well  to  tell  the  Reverend  Lamb 
my  fears  of  some  rash  act  on  the  part  of  Jesus : 
they  were  too  vague.  But  I  urged  that  he  see  him 
that  day  if  possible,  or,  better  still,  that  Mrs.  Lamb 
see  him. 

"  I  have  no  doubt  he  is  at  his  mother's  house. 
We  will  go  there,"  he  answered. 

Leaving  the  Institute  in  the  dusk  of  the  even- 
ing, I  observed  a  couple  strolling  in  the  little  park. 
I  recognized  Brother  Baez  and  Miss  Anderson. 

That  night  I  walked  toward  the  residence  of 
Governor  Romero.  Why  ?  The  memory  of  that 
fierce  look  in  the  face  of  Jesus  was  haunting  me. 
It  had  grown  more  vivid,  more  alarming,  until  I 
became  certain  his  insane  passion  would  take  some 
form  of  violence  or  folly,  and  whichever  he  might 
resolve  upon,  I  was  sure  would  have  its  scene  laid 
there.  Twice  I  passed  the  house.  No  sign  of 
him.  Again  I  passed,  and  there  he  was  at  the 
carriage  entrance  talking  with  the  coachman.  I 
watched  till  he  went  away,  and,  following,  saw  him 
enter  a  cottage.  The  lady  who  opened  the  door 
for  him  was  his  mother. 

The  next  morning  I  called  at  the  cottage.  He 
was  not  in.  He  left  word  he  would  be  back  at 


228  JESUS  DELANEY 

one  o'clock,  said  his  mother  in  Spanish.  While  I 
stood  translating  this  and  putting  into  good  Span- 
ish a  request  that  she  would  inform  him  of  my 
call,  and  that  I  would  come  again  at  one  o'clock, 
Antonio  came  creeping  out  of  a  passageway  near 
by,  on  all  fours,  a  stick  in  his  mouth,  and  two  of 
the  neighbors'  children  on  his  back,  holding  reins 
and  plying  him  vigorously  with  small  whips. 

I  strolled  over  to  the  plaza  and  the  great  cathe 
dral  facing  it,  for  I  never  wearied  of  the  beauties 
of  the  one  nor  the  stately  grandeur  of  the  other. 
The  fountain  played  in  the  sun,  the  trees  and 
flowers  had  on  their  greatest  glory,  but  at  this 
hour  few  were  there  to  admire  them.  Sitting  on 
a  bench  opposite  the  church,  I  contemplated  that 
wonderful  pile.  It  is  the  evolution  of  three  cen- 
turies of  architecture,  the  rude  adobe  of  the  early 
missionary,  the  rougher  rock-work  of  a  later  era, 
the  hewn  stone  and  sculptured  marble  of  recent 
years. 

A  carriage  drove  up.  I  did  not  need  to  see  the 
face  of  the  lady  who  alighted,  for  no  one  could 
mistake  the  incomparable  form  of  Senorita  Ro- 
mero. I  was  sitting  there  still  when  she  came 
out.  The  alert  coachman  sprang  to  open  the  door 
and  held  it  for  her.  She  moved  gracefully  for- 
ward, but  when  near  the  carriage  she  seemed  to 


MISS  ROMERO  AND  HER  COACHMAN 


229 


shrink  back  and  I  thought  I  heard  a  slight  scream, 
but  must  have  been  mistaken,  for  she  merely 
engaged  the  coachman  in  earnest  conversation. 
It  was,  anyhow,  a  queer  occurrence.  I  could  not 
understand  how  the  giving  of  an  order,  however 
complicated,  should  have  required  so  much  time. 
Several  minutes  actually  passed  before  the  coach- 
man resumed  his  place  on  the  box  and  drove 
away. 

Promptly  at  one  o'clock  I  called  again  at  the 
cottage  of  Jesus.  He  was  there,  and  a  marvellous 
change  had  come  over  him.  The  look  of  fierce 
resolve  was  replaced  by  one  of  buoyant  confi- 
dence, the  black,  threatening  scowl  had  given  way 
to  the  light  of  courage  and  hope.  He  grasped 
both  my  hands  in  welcome,  as  if  his  joy  encom- 
passed all  mankind. 

"  I  have  seen  her,"  he  whispered ;  "  there  has 
been  no  date  fixed  for  the  marriage "  (how  his 
eyes  gleamed !) ;  "  it  is  to  occur  when  Benavides  is 
governor"  (here  his  face  darkened  a  moment, 
then  shone  again),  "  but  he  never  will  be  governor ! 
Never ! "  Oh,  the  shifting,  uncertain  soul  of  the 
man !  Hot  as  his  tropical  sky,  beautiful  at  once 
and  terrible !  In  an  instant  he  was  all  smiles. 

"  I  saw  you  on  the  plaza  to-day,"  he  said,  break- 
ing into  a  gay  laugh. 


230  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  Saw  me  on  the  plaza  ?  Where  were  you  ?  "  I 
asked. 

His  answer  was  a  meaning  look  from  those 
expressive  eyes,  and  that  same  merry,  irresistible 
laugh  continued  till  I  joined  in,  and  so  jogged  my 
dull  faculties  into  recognition  of  the  coachman. 


CHAPTER   XXXVIII 

EL    CLUB    PROGRESIVO 

THE  popular  political  movement,  which  flared 
fiercely  for  a  time,  had  little  life  in  it  on  our  return 
from  Santa  Rosa,  —  scarcely  a  sputter.  One  by 
one  the  clubs  formed  in  the  first  flush  of  public 
feeling  had  disbanded  and  died;  not  slowly  and 
in  painful  throes  of  principle  as  would  similar  or- 
ganizations with  us,  but  abruptly,  even  cheerfully. 
The  Club  Progresivo  alone  was  alive.  It  had  made 
no  money  at  the  fiestas.  Some  attributed  this  to 
the  devious  financiering  of  El  Pajaro,  others  (among 
whom  was  El  Pajaro  himself)  accounted  for  it  by 
the  demoniac  luck  of  "un  Americano  llamado 
Craig,"  who  had  persistently  patronized  their  booth 
and  persistently  won. 

"  Something  like  fifty  Mexican  dollars,"  Craig 
told  me,  but  El  Pajaro  put  the  figure  far  up  in  the 
hundreds.  With  debts  heavier  than  ever,  patriot- 
ism at  every  hand  ebbing  and  sinking,  their  Presi- 
dent, who  had  been  the  mainstay  and  stimulus  of 
231 


232  JESUS   DELANEY 

the  organization,  off  in  Santa  Rosa,  the  mystery 
was  that  El  Club  Progresivo  did  not  expire  like 
others.  Well  for  Jesus  had  it  done  so.  But  some 
lingering  spell  of  the  spirit  he  himself  had  incul' 
cated  held  an  undaunted  few  together.  Session 
after  session  these  sat  and  smoked  with  doors 
locked  against  creditors  and  talked  of  their  former 
glory.  They  had  no  money,  no  music,  and  even  if 
the  occasion  arose  or  the  authorities  permitted, 
were  not  numerous  enough  for  a  procession.  Their 
only  sustenance  in  fact  was  the  hope  that  Jesus 
would  return  and  again  assume  their  leadership. 
Unfortunately,  this  hope  was  realized.  I  was 
seated  in  front  of  the  hotel  one  night  when  Jesus 
came  along  and  invited  me  to  accompany  him  to  a 
meeting.  Having  nothing  in  particular  to  engage 
me,  I  accepted  without  inquiry.  After  a  long  walk, 
which  took  us  into  an  unfrequented  street,  we 
stopped  at  a  two-story  structure,  from  the  upper 
windows  of  which  a  dim  light  blinked  warily.  As- 
cending suspicious-looking  stairs,  we  found  our- 
selves in  deep  darkness  in  a  narrow  hallway.  I 
was  uneasy,  but  Jesus  knew  his  whereabouts  and 
gave  three  sharp  taps.  We  heard  a  murmur  of 
voices,  then  a  slow  step,  and  presently  a  slide  in 
the  door  opened,  disclosing  the  familiar  physiog- 
nomy of  El  Pajaro. 


EL   CLUB   PROGRESIVO 


233 


"  Quien  es  ?  "  he  asked  gruffly. 

"Jesus,"  answered  my  companion. 

"Jesus  !  "  repeated  El  Pajaro,  thrusting  his  face 
full  into  the  aperture,  "Jesus  !  "  and  withdrawing 
it  excitedly  we  heard  him  shout  the  name  to  those 
within.  There  was  noise  of  tumbling  chairs  and 
trampling  feet  and  many  voices  —  the  door  flew 
open,  and  in  an  instant  we  were  on  the  inside  sur- 
rounded by  a  dozen  men,  each  struggling  to  get  the 
earliest  embrace  of  Jesus.  El  Pajaro  first  seized 
him  and  hugged  and  kissed  and  cried  and  kissed 
again,  until  another  dragged  him  off  and  took  his 
place.  It  was  bewildering.  But  worst  of  all,  El 
Pajaro,  when  torn  from  his  victim,  fell  upon  me 
and  in  a  paroxysm  of  hilarious  joy  waltzed  me 
around  the  room,  then  delivered  me  up  to  another 
who  did  the  same,  and  then  to  the  next,  until, 
seeing  that  every  one  who  welcomed  Jesus  with  an 
embrace  was  bound  to  work  off  the  remainder  of 
his  enthusiasm  in  a  wild  dance  with  me,  I  fled 
precipitately  from  this  den  of  madmen. 

Jesus  came  round  next  morning,  apologetic  yet 
jubilant. 

"  You  must  pardon  something  to  the  spirit 
of  liberty,"  he  said.  "  Are  they  not  loving, 
loyal  comrades  ?  I  wish  you  knew  them  as 
I  do." 


234  JESUS   DELANEY 

I  was  not  desirous  of  closer  acquaintance,  but 
said  nothing. 

"  They  have  held  together  while  weaker  hearts 
lost  faith  and  courage.  They  alone  are  left  of  the 
mighty  army  once  enrolled ;  but  with  this  faithful 
band  I  have  the  nucleus  of  a  mightier  army  still. 
Patriotism  has  not  died  —  it  has  slept  —  it  has 
rested  —  it  is  ready  now  to  rouse  once  more  for 
motherland."  There  he  was  speechifying  again, 
brimful  of  rank  nonsense.  Of  course  I  reasoned 
with  him.  Indeed,  I  thought  for  a  while  as  I  argued 
he  was  becoming  convinced.  He  admitted  that  in 
a  political  contest  mere  patriotism  of  that  sort  didn't 
count  —  it  was  without  influence  —  without  votes, 
and  meant  nothing  unless  properly  organized  and 
directed.  He  admitted  that  organization  was 
impossible  without  money,  and  volunteered  the 
further  fact  that  it  was  impossible  without  music. 
He  admitted  it  was  impossible  without  parades,  and 
even  added  as  an  essential  I  overlooked,  "  Fire- 
works ! "  He  admitted  that  neither  meetings, 
music,  parades,  nor  fireworks  could  be  had  without 
money. 

"And  you  have  no  money,"  I  ended,  clinching 
my  argument.  He  admitted  they  had  none. 

"Then,"  said  I,  "what  sense  is  there  in  stirring 
up  those  crazy  fellows  ?  "  As  luck  would  have  it, 


EL   CLUB   PROGRESIVO 


235 


two  of  the  craziest  of  the  fellows  happened  along 
at  this  moment  —  El  Profesor  and  El  Pajaro. 
Again  there  was  a  scene  of  hugging  and  kissing, 
only  a  little  less  demonstrative  than  the  night 
before,  but  violent  enough  to  excite  my  fears  of 
more  waltzing,  and  I  stole  away. 


CHAPTER  XXXIX 

A   BULL-FIGHT 

As  I  saw  nothing  of  Jesus  for  several  days,  and 
heard  of  no  activity  on  the  part  of  his  club,  I 
began  to  hope  that  my  arguments  had  availed  to 
turn  him  from  his  foolish  purpose.  There  was  no 
talk  of  politics  anywhere ;  a  more  attractive  mat- 
ter now  absorbed  the  public  mind.  Instead  of 
contesting  by  word  or  deed  the  election  of  Bena- 
vides,  or  discussing  the  marriage  that  was  ar- 
ranged to  follow  it,  the  good  people  of  Alameda 
had  become  engrossed  in  a  coming  bull-fight.  My 
first  knowledge  of  this  came  one  day  when  a  band 
passed  the  hotel,  followed  by  men  on  horseback 
and  in  carriages  dressed  in  peculiarly  gaudy  cos- 
tumes. With  this  procession  were  boys  who  gave 
out  handbills  announcing  in  big  letters  a  grand 
Amateur  Bull-Fight  for  the  following  Sunday 
under  the  auspices  of  La  Sociedad  Benevolencia. 

"Funcion  Extraordinaria !  Ojo!  Ojo!"  read 
236 


A   BULL-FIGHT 


237 


the  bill  —  "  Cuatro  Toros  !  —  Tres  a  Muerte !  Y 
un  Toro  de  Jinete !  " 

The  last  bull-fight  in  Alameda  had  been  for  a 
pious  purpose,  leading  society  ladies  were  its  pa- 
tronesses, the  best-known  gentlemen  performers, 
and  the  church  its  beneficiary.  Full  sixteen 
months  had  passed  since  the  event,  yet  people 
still  spoke  of  its  glories :  how  the  crowd  was  too 
great  for  the  "  Plaza  de  Toros  "  ;  how  the  pressure 
for  place,  despite  the  presence  of  the  military, 
almost  provoked  a  riot ;  how  the  ladies  outdid 
themselves  in  the  splendor  of  their  costumes.  The 
feats  of  valor,  the  prodigies  of  skill!  How  two 
men  were  mutilated,  six  bulls  killed,  eight  horses 
disembowelled,  and  two  thousand  dollars  raised 
for  another  tower  on  the  cathedral ! 

Nobody  supposed  that  the  affair  of  the  Sociedad 
Benevolencia  would  reach  any  such  rank ;  the 
society  was  unknown,  the  names  of  the  performers 
unannounced.  But  time  was  ripe  for  a  bull-fight, 
people  were  hungry  for  one,  and  indisposed  to  be 
particular.  Circumstances,  which  ordinarily  might 
have  aroused  unfriendly  comment,  only  whetted 
the  public  appetite.  The  very  obscurity  of  the 
organization  took  on  something  of  a  mystery  which 
each  one  solved  after  his  own  pleasure.  "  The 
Church  is  back  of  it,"  winked  one.  "  Benavides 


238  JESUS   DELANEY 

is  behind  it,"  nodded  another.  "  Some  power  is 
pushing  it,"  acknowledged  all,  "else  why  should  it 
be  permitted  ? " 

For  be  it  known  there  is  a  law  in  Alameda  pro- 
hibiting bull-fighting,  a  law  stringent  and  radical. 
Yet  notwithstanding  that  law,  the  Governor  him- 
self, it  was  said,  had  accepted  an  invitation  to  act 
as  Judge,  and  his  daughter,  it  was  also  rumored, 
would  be  the  Queen. 

Hearing  all  this  talk  —  little  of  any  other  talk 
could  be  heard  —  I  myself  began  to  take  an 
interest  in  the  affair.  It  did  not  at  first  enter  my 
mind  that  I  would  attend.  I  am  a  humane  man. 
While  I  like  manly  sport  of  all  kinds,  I  draw  the 
line  at  cruelty  to  dumb  beasts.  No  boxing  match 
ever  shocked  me,  nor  foot-ball,  bad  as  it  is ;  but  I 
have  had  to  get  out  of  the  grand  stand  at  a  race 
in  my  own  town,  rather  than  see  impish  jockeys 
plying  whip  and  spur  on  poor  horses  already 
goaded  to  their  utmost.  And  it  has  disgusted  me 
to  see  respectable  men  sit  and  cheer  such  brutal- 
ity. But  there  is  a  great  deal  of  cant  in  this  thing 
of  sport,  more  I  think  in  America  than  elsewhere. 
It  would  not  be  so  much  like  cant  if  it  were  con- 
sistent. But  think  of  it !  Texas  licenses  prostitu- 
tion in  Waco,  and  calls  a  special  session  of  her 
legislature  to  stop  a  boxing  match  in  Dallas.  New 


A   BULL-FIGHT 


239 


York  forbids  selling  pools  at  a  horse  race,  and 
permits  gambling  pools  in  Wall  Street.  We 
see  the  passing  of  the  close-clipped  pug,  and  the 
apotheosis  of  the  unshorn  punter.  Well,  there  is 
no  accounting  for  tastes.  In  regard  to  bull-fight- 
ing, however,  there  can  be  but  one  opinion  :  the 
sport  is  utterly  bad  and  brutal ;  so  say  we  all  of 
us.  Yet  I  was  told  by  Craig  that  American  resi- 
dents and  transients  in  every  Mexican  city  are 
among  its  best  patrons,  and  in  proof  of  this  it  was 
shown  to  me  that  the  Sociedad  Benevolencia  built 
great  hopes  on  an  excursion  from  the  United 
States  which  was  coming  several  hundred  miles  to 
see  this  fight. 

"  Americans  all  go,"  said  Craig. 

"  I  can  tell  you  right  here,"  said  I,  "  of  one 
American  who  will  not  go." 

"  Wait,"  said  Craig. 

Alas  !  Human  nature  is  weak.  On  the  Sunday 
afternoon  of  the  fight,  I  sat  watching  the  throng 
on  its  way  to  the  Plaza  de  Toros  —  street  cars 
loaded,  walks  impassable,  every  class  represented 
from  the  mendicant  to  the  military,  all  eager,  ex- 
pectant, excited. 

And  their  excitement  was  infectious.  I  had  re- 
solved not  to  go,  but  curiosity  kept  gnawing  at  my 
resolution  until  the  little  left  of  it  was  held  by 


240  JESUS   DELANEY 

kinks  of  pride  rather  than  bonds  of  conscience. 
Presently  along  came  a  party  of  American  excur- 
sionists, who  I  knew  had  travelled  a  long  journey 
for  the  occasion.  Was  I  to  miss  my  first  and  prob- 
ably only  chance  of  such  a  sight  ?  I  slipped  in  be- 
hind the  Americans  and  was  soon  jostling  and 
elbowing  with  other  countrymen  of  mine  at  the 
box  office. 

My  ticket  gained  me  a  place  whence  I  could 
survey  the  very  interesting  scene.  It  brought 
vividly  to  mind  boyhood's  exaggerated  memory 
of  my  first  circus.  Of  course  there  was  no  tent, 
but  lacking  the  canvas  covering,  there  was  all 
else,  —  the  vast  crowd,  the  ringed  arena,  the  seats 
ranging  round  and  up,  tier  on  tier.  My  eye 
first  distinguished  the  division  of  sol  and  som- 
bra.  On  the  benches  beaten  by  the  sun,  called 
the  sol,  sat  the  poorer  classes,  —  the  bleachers  of 
the  bull  ring ;  on  the  benches  within  the  shade  or 
sombra  were  the  wealthier ;  and  in  the  most  select 
quarter  of  all,  boxes  festooned  with  silk  and 
flowers  held  the  beauty  and  chivalry  of  Alameda. 
But  most  conspicuous,  indeed  so  prominent  that  at 
the  very  first  glance  it  held  the  eye,  was  a  re- 
splendent throne  whereon  there  sat  the  honored 
Queen  of  the  Bull-Fight,  Senorita  Marie  Romero. 
You  may  think  that  the  sight  of  her  in  such  a 


A  BULL-FIGHT 


241 


place  would  have  lowered  her  greatly  in  my  es- 
teem. It  certainly  should  have  done  so;  but  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  it  didn't.  She  never  looked  so 
supremely  beautiful.  My  first  thought  on  seeing 
her  was  one  of  gratification  that  Jesus  wasn't 
there,  for  if  he  were,  her  queenly  appearance 
could  not  have  failed  to  heighten  his  irrational 
love ;  whereas  I  could  now  use  the  fact  of  her  pre- 
siding at  such  a  barbarous  festival  as  another  and 
convincing  proof  that  she  was  no  fit  mate  for 
an  evangelist.  I  soon  observed  an  odd  change 
in  the  demeanor  of  the  crowd.  Outside  the  in- 
closure,  striving  for  seats,  and  inside  while  being 
seated,  there  was  an  easy,  gentle  courtesy  per- 
vading every  class,  but  no  sooner  were  people  in 
their  places  and  settled  down  to  enjoy  the  occasion 
than  there  seemed  to  break  forth  a  very  storm  of 
vociferous  vulgarity.  No  one  protested,  none  took 
offence  —  it  was  in  fact  part  of  the  festivity.  But 
I  shall  never  forget  how  it  shocked  me  when  a 
gentleman  sitting  near,  and  who  I  knew  held  a 
high  judicial  position,  yelled  to  some  one  clear 
across  the  arena  so  that  all  could  hear,  a  remark 
unfit  to  be  recorded,  and  the  one  thus  accosted 
answered  back  in  kind.  Indeed,  there  was  a  con- 
stant volleying  and  cross-fire  of  the  sort  between 
sol  and  sombra.  Two  full  companies  of  soldiers 


242  JESUS   DELANEY 

were  present,  and  not  less  than  a  hundred  police- 
men, yet  no  effort  was  made  to  silence  the  mouthy 
mob ;  soldiers  and  officers  appeared  to  enjoy  the 
billingsgate  battle,  if  they  did  not  actually  partici- 
pate. It  grew  louder  and  louder,  rising  it  seemed 
almost  to  riotousness  and  giving  me  some  concern 
for  my  personal  safety ;  but  at  the  very  worst,  the 
Judge  (who  was  no  other  than  Governor  Romero) 
nodded  to  a  uniformed  trumpeter,  and  the  bugle 
rang  out  rich  and  clear  the  signal  for  the  fight. 
There  was  a  clash  of  cymbals,  a  roll  of  drums,  and 
amid  the  wildest  cheering  in  marched  the  amateur 
bull-fighters.  Conceive  my  feelings  when  as  the 
spangled  procession  halted  to  salute  the  Queen,  I 
recognized  in  the  first  rank,  gay  with  embroid- 
ered jacket,  velvet  trunks,  and  silken  hose,  Jesus 
Delaney ! 


CHAPTER  XL 

A   MINISTER  AS   MATADOR 

YES  ;  Jesus  a  matador,  and  with  him  El  Pajaro 
and  El  Profesor  as  banderilleros,  and  other  mem- 
bers of  the  Club  Progresivo  Politico  capas  and 
picadores,  all  masquerading  under  the  name  of  La 
Sociedad  Benevolencia !  I  wanted  to  get  away. 
It  was  dreadful  to  think  of,  let  alone  to  see.  But 
there  was  no  escape.  I  would  have  to  crawl  over 
the  heads  of  those  below  or  the  laps  of  those  above 
to  get  out  of  the  accursed  place.  I  had  to  sit  it 
through,  and  a  sorry  performance  it  was.  Shall 
I  relate  it  ?  Well,  the  relation  may  serve  to  keep 
others  who  visit  Mexico  from  attending  an  ama- 
teur bull-fight. 

Twice  the  procession  headed  by  Jesus  circled 
the  arena.  Then  all  who  were  afoot  threw  aside 
hats  and  cloaks  and  took  their  appointed  places, 
while  the  mounted  picadores,  encouraged  by  con- 
stant vivas,  poised  their  long  pikes  for  the  ex- 
pected  charge.  The  bugle  sounded. 

There  was  a  crash  of  broken  timbers,  a  roar 
243 


244  JESUS  DELANEY 

more  of  pain  than  fury,  and  in  rushed  the  bull. 
But  such  a  bull !  Not  that  fighting  beast  of 
Andalusian  breed,  fiercer  than  any  lion  and  far 
more  strong,  —  only  a  little  stunted  steer  with 
scraggy  tail  and  horn-tips  freshly  sawed.  No 
wonder  the  crowd  which  had  been  frantic  with 
enthusiasm  first  groaned,  then  gibed  and  jeered. 
"  Otro  toro  !  Otro  toro  !  Traigan  un  cordero !  " 
(Another  bull!  Another  bull!  Bring  a  lamb!) 
was  shouted  from  all  sides.  Even  the  ladies 
laughed  behind  their  fans  and  the  "  sol  "  grew 
riotous.  Sticks,  stones,  empty  bottles,  were  pelted 
at  the  performers.  Such  a  mockery  of  a  fight! 
A  dozen  armed  men  matched  against  one  poor, 
puny,  and  dehorned  steer!  It  looked  as  if  the 
mob  would  leap  into  the  arena  and  hustle  bull  and 
bull-fighters  back  into  the  pen.  The  mounted 
"  picadores  "  strove  to  make  some  show  of  combat. 
They  rode  briskly  around  the  bull  and  pricked 
with  their  pikes,  but  the  scared  animal  only  ran, 
putting  more  dependence  on  his  hoofs  than  his 
horns.  Some  wag  threw  into  the  arena  a  little 
dog,  which  joined  barking  in  the  chase,  and  the 
climax  of  ridiculousness  was  reached  when  Don 
Pepe,  a  local  buffoon,  perched  on  the  fence  and 
bold  with  mescal,  jumped  on  the  bull's  back  and 
despite  its  plunges  rode  it  into  the  pen. 


A   MINISTER  AS   MATADOR 


245 


This  was  too  much  even  for  Mexican  dignity  — 
Judge,  patronesses,  performers,  all  were  overcome 
with  laughter. 

The  bugle  blew  the  signal  for  another  bull. 
It  came.  But  scarcely  was  it  visible  when  the 
"sol"  again  proclaimed  dissatisfaction.  It  was  a 
starved-looking,  brindle  steer.  As  it  passed,  you 
could  see  blood  oozing  from  the  sawed  horns. 
Instead  of  charging  on  the  horses,  it  ran  from 
them  in  fright,  and  proved  itself  an  artful  dodger 
of  picadores  and  banderilleros. 

"  Otro  toro !  Otro  toro ! "  again  yelled  the 
crowd,  calling  for  another  bull. 

One  drunken  fellow  stood  on  a  chair  and 
delivered  a  harangue  on  cowardice.  The  vilest 
epithets  were  flung  at  the  performers. 

"  No  nos  roben  !  Devuelven  el  dinero !  "  they 
shouted,  demanding  back  their  money. 

Amidst  the  din  I  observed  Jesus  confer  with 
El  Pajaro,  and  the  latter  left  the  ring,  driving  the 
brindle  steer  before  him.  In  a  moment  he  came 
back  and  waved  his  hand  to  the  Judge.  Again 
the  trumpet  blared. 

The  door  of  the  pen  flew  open  and  in  darted 
a  jet-black  bull. 

Great  was  the  cheer  that  went  up,  for  at  first 
sight  the  crowd  knew  he  was  a  fighter  and  that 


246  JESUS   DELANEY 

his  horns  were  unsawed.  Without  pause  he 
rushed  at  the  nearest  picador.  The  latter,  as- 
tonished at  the  fury  of  the  assault,  made  no  effort 
to  repel  it.  Only  the  thick  leather  shield  saved 
the  horse  from  being  disembowelled.  One  after 
another  he  hunted  the  performers  to  their  holes  in 
the  "  burladeros,"  or  made  them  climb  the  fence, 
while  those  on  horseback  were  sprinted  round 
and  round  in  a  mad  gallop,  until,  as  if  tiring  of 
the  chase,  he  stood  in  the  centre  of  the  arena 
and  snorted  his  contempt.  The  mounted  pica- 
dores  discreetly  made  their  escape. 

Taurus  had  the  ring  to  himself. 

Another  blast  of  the  trumpet  now  proclaimed 
the  second  act,  "  Clavar  las  banderillas !  " 

For  this  feat  El  Profesor  and  El  Pajaro  had 
been  selected.  Theirs  to  wait  the  bull's  attack 
and  thrust  their  darts  behind  the  horns. 

Holding  in  either  hand  a  dart  some  twenty 
inches  long,  decked  with  gayly  colored  ribbons, 
El  Profesor  strode  forth.  The  panting  bull  stood 
forty  feet  away.  Plainly,  El  Profesor  was  fright- 
ened. His  face  was  pale  and  his  thin  legs 
trembled.  Yet,  conscious  that  his  senorita's  eyes 
were  on  him,  he  stood  and  feebly  waved  his  darts 
in  challenge.  The  bull,  however,  acted  undecided, 
simply  maintaining  a  sullen  stare.  El  Profesor 


A   MINISTER  AS   MATADOR 


247 


took  courage.  Again  he  waved  his  darts,  and 
failing  to  provoke  the  foe,  he  shouted  valiantly : 
"  Adelante,  Toro  !  Aqui  te  espero  !  "  (Hurry,  Bull ! 
Here  I  await  you !)  That  was  too  much.  The 
bull's  tail  went  up,  his  head  down,  and  he  dashed 
at  the  professor,  who  dropped  his  darts  and  fled. 
There  was  a  groan  of  derision.  But  El  Profesor 
had  enough.  Only  the  most  persistent  coaxing 
and  threats  could  bring  him  out  again.  Out  at 
last  he  came,  however,  with  unsteady  step  and  un- 
easy eye,  ready  to  run  at  the  first  move  of  the 
enemy.  But  instead  of  advancing,  the  bull  for 
some  reason  slowly  turned  until  his  tail  and  not  his 
horns  threatened.  The  crowd  shouted:  "Ahora! 
Entrale !  No  tengas  miedo  !  "  It  was  El  Pro- 
fesor's  opportunity.  Screwing  his  courage  to  the 
sticking  point,  he  tiptoed  timidly  forward  and 
thrust  his  darts  into  the  animal's  rump.  A  roar, 
a  flash  of  heels,  and  El  Profesor  lay  prone.  He 
was  rescued  and  restored.  Nor  was  he  without 
honor.  Even  while  the  air  was  rank  with  epithets 
shouted  at  him  from  the  sol,  he  was  summoned 
before  the  Queen,  who  with  her  own  hands  wound 
about  him  a  gorgeous  sash  of  the  Mexican  national 
colors.  With  such  recognition  from  royalty,  no 
wonder*  he  proudly  disregarded  the  vulgar  abuse 
of  the  masses. 


248  JESUS  DELANEY 

It  was  now  the  turn  of  El  Pajaro.  He  was  the 
best  known  of  the  performers,  and  by  all  odds  the 
most  at  his  ease.  For  he  bowed  and  smiled  as  he 
walked  forward  amid  a  chorus  of  hurrahs  and  cries 
of  encouragement  and  ridicule,  such  as :  — 

"  Luzcate,  Pajaro ! " 

"  Metelos  derechitos  ! " 

"  No  tiembles,  viejo  bribon  !  " 

"  Es  poco  pajaro  para  tanto  toro !  " 

The  bull  ran  bellowing  about,  making  fantastic 
twists  and  bounds  to  free  himself  from  the  treach- 
erous darts  of  El  Profesor,  but  they  stuck  fast, 
their  ribbons  fluttering  gayly  at  every  leap.  At 
last  the  beast  espied  El  Pajaro,  then  charged.  I 
trembled  for  the  fellow's  life.  But  El  Pajaro,  to 
the  wonder  of  all,  stepped  aside  unscathed.  It 
was  done  with  a  grace  and  agility  that  were 
marvellous. 

"  Ese  es  torrero  viejo,"  some  one  shouted. 

And  so  it  subsequently  developed.  In  his  early 
days  he  had  earned  a  precarious  living  at  the  busi- 
ness. 

Smiling  and  self-possessed,  he  again  awaited  an 
attack.  Again  the  enraged  beast  with  lowered 
head  .and  flashing  eyes  came  at  him,  and  when 
seemingly  upon  him  El  Pajaro  deftly  thrust  his 
darts  behind  the  horns.  The  feat  aroused  genuine 


A   MINISTER  AS   MATADOR  249 

enthusiasm.  Caballeros  rose  to  their  feet  and 
cheered.  Pelados  whirled  their  colored  blankets 
around  their  heads  or  threw  their  sombreros  swirl- 
ing toward  the  hero ;  cigars,  fruit,  even  silver 
dollars  were  flung  to  him,  and  the  band  played  a 
conquering  march  as  he  was  escorted  before  the 
Queen.  But  neither  the  excitement  nor  enthusiasm 
caused  El  Pajaro  to  so  far  forget  himself  as  to 
overlook  or  relinquish  any  single  thing  of  value 
thrown  to  him  in  the  arena. 

Another  trumpet  signal ! 

The  bull  is  to  get  the  death  stroke. 

All  eyes  were  on  Jesus,  the  matador. 

Oh !  the  degradation  of  it !  Where  were  the 
prayers  and  precepts  of  the  Institute  ?  Where 
the  pious  culture  and  lofty  inspirations  of  the 
college  ?  Where  the  sublime  ambition  for  the  lift- 
ing up  of  his  race  ? 

Sword  in  hand,  smiling,  handsome,  calm  as  one 
who  in  old  Madrid  had  won  a  hundred  triumphs, 
there  he  stood. 

Shame,  curiosity,  dread  —  such  were  my  mingled 
feelings. 

The  crowd  in  the  sol  knew  him  and  gave  wel- 
coming cries  :  "  Viva  Don  Jesus  !  "  "  Ahora  si !  " 
"  Bravo  matador  !  " 

The  crowd  in  the  sombra  knew  him  not,  but  the 


250  JESUS   DELANEY 

graceful  athletic  figure  brought  out  vividly  by  the 
close-fitting  velvet  trunks  and  gold-embroidered 
jacket,  caught  their  admiration,  and  they  cheered 
in  sympathy.  All  was  hushed  in  attentive  silence, 
as  standing  before  the  Judge,  he  thus  addressed 
him : 

"  En  honra  de  nuestra  Reina,  la  flor  del  bello 
sexo,  y  para  la  gloria  de  nuestra  bandera  y  de 
nuestra  patria,  matar6  ahora  este  toro."  (In  honor 
of  our  Queen,  the  flower  of  womankind,  and  for  the 
glory  of  our  flag  and  country,  I  will  now  kill  this 
bull.)  It  was  a  touching  speech  and  won  enrap- 
tured plaudits.  One  old  sefiora  squatted  near  me 
was  so  overcome  with  emotion  that  she  almost 
swallowed  her  lighted  cigarette.  Some  sobbed 
aloud. 

Love  and  country !  What  nobler  inspirations 
could  there  be  to  nerve  a  man  to  kill  a  bull ! 

Jesus  proudly  walked  to  the  centre  of  the  arena. 

Now  you,  who  have  not  seen  the  Spanish  na- 
tional sport,  may  underrate  his  peril.  But  let  me 
say,  the  fighting  bull  can  make  a  misstep  of  the 
matador  his  serious  injury  or  death.  To  despatch 
the  beast  confronting  Jesus  called  for  courage  at 
once  and  skill.  Goaded  to  fury  by  his  wounds  he 
seemed  to  have  grown  in  strength  and  viciousness. 
He  was  pawing  the  ground,  lashing  his  tail,  snort- 


A   MINISTER  AS   MATADOR 


251 


ing,  bellowing.  For  several  seconds  he  continued 
thus,  his  fury  ever  heightening.  At  last  he  saw 
the  foe  and  savagely  sprang  at  him. 

Jesus  leaped  aside  unharmed. 

Now  stood  the  lad  in  splendid  stead  the  training 
of  his  boyish  pranks  in  Deacon  Oldney's  pasture. 
To  run,  turn,  twist,  to  confuse  and  flout  the 
maddened  beast  was  sport  for  him.  Wild  dashes, 
quick  dodges,  every  move  a  life  in  peril.  At  last 
the  bull  drew  back,  and  the  matador  poised  for 
the  death  stroke.  Man,  woman,  and  child  rose 
with  the  nervous  tension. 

"  Ahora  !  ahora !  "  they  cried. 

A  savage  leap,  a  swift  thrust  —  it  was  finished. 

To  march  amid  the  cheering  multitude,  to  kneel 
before  the  Queen,  smiles  from  her  lips  and  words 
of  praise,  to  be  decked  by  her  hand  with  all  the 
honors,  what  more  of  glory  had  earth  for  Jesus  ? 


CHAPTER  XLI 

REDS 

IT  was  a  great  change  and  a  soothing  relief 
from  the  savage  sights  of  the  bull  ring,  to  sit  with 
Craig  that  Sunday  evening  on  the  plaza,  listening 
to  the  sweet  music  and  watching  the  romantic 
round  of  promenaders. 

One  could  not  help  being  impressed  with  the  all- 
prevailing  courtesy.  Not  a  loud  word  nor  a  vulgar 
laugh  nor  an  act  of  coarseness  or  rowdyism. 
Even  the  outer  circle  of  dark-skinned  and  poorly 
clad  pelados  had  an  air  of  gentleness  and  dignity. 

"  It  would  be  impossible  in  our  country,"  said 
I  to  Craig,  "to  get  so  many  people  in  a  public 
place  without  some  exhibit  of  the  loafer  and  the 
rough." 

"Yes,"  said  Craig. 

"  Here,"  I  continued,  "  are  fully  five  thousand 
people  promenading  this  square,  of  every  class 
and  condition,  yet  we  do  not  see  a  rude  act  nor 
hear  an  improper  word.  It  is  an  object  lesson  to 

252 


REDS 


253 


us.  Conceive  any  such  thing  in  Chicago  or  New 
York  or  London." 

"  Can't,"  said  Craig. 

"  I  tell  you,  sir,  the  Anglo-Saxon  has  much  to 
learn  from  the  Latin." 

"  Manners,"  said  Craig. 

"Well,  that  hardly  covers  it.  There  seems  to 
be  more  than  mere  manners  in  this  quiet  cheer- 
fulness, this  mutual  respect,  this  gentle,  kindly 
courtesy.  Don't  you  think  so  ? " 

"  Look  !  "  he  answered,  pointing  to  a  corner  of 
the  square. 

I  observed  a  commotion.  Men  were  bustling 
about  a  wagon,  a  drum  began  to  beat  and  a  crowd 
gathered.  The  drum  grew  louder  and  was  helped 
by  hooting  and  yelling.  In  a  moment  the  plaza 
promenade  was  deserted,  ladies  escorted  and  unes- 
corted disappeared,  while  the  men  all  pressed  for 
position  around  the  wagon,  from  which  a  speaker 
addressed  them.  He  was  listened  to  with  close 
attention  and  some  applause.  Then  another  spoke, 
evoking  more  enthusiasm.  A  third  arose,  and  even 
from  the  distance  where  I  sat  I  could  distinguish 
the  voice  of  Jesus  Delaney. 

I  have  said  he  was  a  power  in  the  pulpit.  But  I 
did  not  think  it  possible  he  could  be  at  the  same 
time  a  popular  orator.  Yet  such  he  proved.  His 


254  JESUS   DELANEY 

words  made  waves  of  glorious  sound.  They  filled 
and  thrilled  the  very  souls  of  his  listeners.  He 
played  on  their  feelings  as  on  an  instrument.  Now 
it  was  the  story  of  his  country,  now  the  pathos 
of  her  wrongs,  now  the  assertion  of  her  rights. 
Tears  and  cheers  were  his  alternate  tribute.  I 
understood  little  of  what  he  said,  but  there  was 
no  mistaking  his  impassioned  peroration,  which 
poured  out  the  full  chalice  of  indignant  hate  on 
Benavides. 

I  never  saw  such  excitement  as  ensued.  Rage 
found  no  vent  in  words  —  men  howled,  danced  in 
delirium,  writhed  as  in  agony,  knives  were  flour- 
ished, pistols  drawn  and  discharged. 

We  hurried  from  the  plaza. 

"Well,  I  declare,"  said  I  to  Craig,  "I  do  not 
know  what  to  think  of  them." 

"  Reds,"  he  growled. 


CHAPTER   XLII 

SCENE   AT   A   DEATH-BED 

SINCE  the  return  from  Santa  Rosa,  Mrs.  Lamb 
and  myself  had  been  trying  to  effect  a  reconcilia- 
tion between  Jesus  and  the  Reverend  Lamb.  But 
Jesus  kept  out  of  Mrs.  Lamb's  way,  and  my  own 
efforts  were  fruitless.  We  were  earnestly  aided  by 
Mrs.  Delaney.  The  poor  woman  sympathized,  of 
course,  with  the  infatuation  of  her  son,  but  she  saw 
clearly  that  his  true  interests  lay  in  the  work  for 
which  he  had  been  trained,  and  with  the  pious  man 
who  had  been  his  benefactor.  She  pleaded  with 
him  and  urged  him  to  go  back  to  the  Institute. 
She  even  sought  to  palliate  his  religious  short- 
comings by  being  unusually  devout  herself,  punct- 
ual at  every  prayer-meeting,  and  active  in  every 
evangelical  work.  The  Reverend  Lamb  often  said 
that  the  exemplary  piety  of  the  mother  was  some 
consolation  for  the  ungrateful  conduct  of  the  son. 

I  had  had  hopes  that  in  time  she  would  prevail ; 
that  the  mad  passion  of  the  young  man  would 
effervesce,  and  all  would  be  well. 

255 


256  JESUS   DELANEY 

The  bull-fight  made  hope  impossible.  The  gates 
of  his  holy  calling  were  shut  forever. 

A  minister  in  the  bull  ring  ! 

I  did  not  want  to  see  the  Reverend  Lamb.  I 
knew  his  rage  would  be  terrific.  But  a  note  came 
from  him  early  on  the  day  following  the  affair :  — 

I  dread  to  convey  to  you  [he  wrote]  the  horrible  truth, 
but  sooner  or  later  you  must  learn  of  it.  Delaney!  Delaney  ! 
—  he  whom  I  sought  to  lift  nigh  unto  the  very  Throne  of 
Grace,  to  be  the  glory,  the  pride,  and  paragon  of  our  mission, 
Delaney  yesterday  flew  to  the  lowest  depths  of  degradation 
by  actually  appearing  at  a  bull-fight,  not  merely  as  a  spectator 
(which  were  infamy  enough),  but  as  a  participant ;  in  fact, 
I  am  informed,  the  chief  actor  in  the  foul  drama  —  the  mata- 
dor ! 

Ah!    sharper    than    the    serpent's  tooth;    but    I   cannot 

continue. 

LAMB. 

The  part  of  this  epistle  which  struck  me  most 
closely  was  its  reference  to  mere  appearing  at 
a  bull-fight  being  infamy  enough.  My  indisposi- 
tion to  meet  the  Reverend  Lamb  became  materi- 
ally aggravated. 

How  true  it  is  that  misfortunes  are  birds  of  a 
feather. 

Even  while  holding  in  my  hand  the  note  of 
Reverend  Lamb,  Antonio  came  with  a  note  from 
Jesus,  telling  me  his  mother  was  dying.  f)ying  ! 
I  had  not  heard  of  her  being  ill. 


SCENE  AT  A  DEATH-BED 


257 


"  Muy  malo  para  Jesus,"  said  Antonio. 

Poor  Jesus !  The  message  chased  away  all 
my  resentment,  and  left  naught  but  pity.  I  knew 
his  love  for  his  mother,  and  how  her  loss  would 
leave  him  utterly  alone.  It  occurred  to  me,  how- 
ever, that  this  calamity  might  be  the  God-appointed 
means  for  curing  him  of  his  craze  and  reconciling 
him  to  the  Reverend  Lamb. 

I  started  for  the  Institue. 

They  had  not  heard  of  the  illness  of  Mrs. 
Delaney,  and  were  deeply  affected.  Even  the 
Reverend  Lamb  was  shocked  into  momentary 
sympathy  for  the  son.  Mrs.  Lamb  hurried  to 
finish  certain  necessary  work  with  which  she  was 
engaged,  and  urged  her  husband  to  lose  no  time. 

"  Go  to  her  at  once,"  said  she.  "  She  doubtless 
will  wish  us  by  her  at  the  last  sad  agony.  I  will 
follow  presently." 

I  went  with  him  and  soon  we  reached  the  little 
cottage.  The  door  was  ajar.  We  entered.  Jesus 
sat  by  himself,  his  head  bowed  down.  The  door 
of  an  adjoining  room  was  open  and  we  could  look 
within.  On  the  low  bed  the  mother  lay,  holding 
in  her  hands  a  cross ;  beside  her  knelt  —  a  priest, 
Padre  Pablo ! 

The  Reverend  Lamb  paled.  His  lips  twitched 
—  his  hands  opened  and  closed  convulsively. 


258  JESUS   DELANEY 

Walking  up  to  Jesus,  he  grasped  him  by  the 
collar  as  one  would  a  cowering  hound. 

"  You !  "  he  hissed.     "  You  allow  this  !  " 

Jesus  raised  his  eyes ;  there  was  more  in  them 
of  weariness  and  wonder  than  of  resentment.  The 
Reverend  Lamb's  rage  flared  in  its  fierceness. 

"  Look !  "  he  said,  pointing  into  the  room,  "  that 
vile  woman  —  " 

My  God  !  What  could  have  made  the  man  use 
such  a  phrase  at  such  a  time !  I  myself  could 
have  felled  him  for  it! 

I  cannot  blame  Jesus. 

But  the  indignity,  the  shame  which  followed, 
will  rest  with  the  Reverend  Lamb  forever.  I  did 
not  pity  him  when  he  rose  to  his  feet  and  slunk 
away. 

Jesus  stood  with  face  aflame,  his  fingers  twitch- 
ing, his  whole  aspect  that  of  indignant  rage. 

He  was  still  standing  thus  when  Mrs.  Lamb 
came  softly  in.  Her  quick  glance  caught  at  once 
the  unexpected  scene  in  the  death  chamber.  I 
saw  her  sweet  face  cloud,  but  in  an  instant  clear. 
Walking  to  Jesus,  who  had  not  noticed  her  en- 
trance, she  took  his  hand.  His  eyes  met  hers, 
and  as  she  kissed  his  forehead,  his  head  bowed 
down  upon  her  bosom  and  he  sobbed. 

The  solemn  service  for  the  dying  still  went  on, 


SCENE   AT  A   DEATH-BED 


259 


—  the  priest's  low  voice  appealing  mercy,  the 
broken  breath,  the  moan  of  agony. 

I  felt  the  awe,  the  terror  of  it  all,  and  heard,  as 
if  answering  my  soul's  own  pleadings,  the  whis- 
pered counsel  of  Mrs.  Lamb  to  Jesus,  "  Let  us 
pray." 

We  knelt. 


CHAPTER  XLIII 

THE   MANDATE 

THE  hasty  meeting  in  the  plaza  against  the  can- 
didacy of  Benavides  was  followed  fast  by  others. 
The  fire  of  discontent  which  had  smouldered, 
blazed  again.  Even  the  press  felt  the  prevailing 
heat.  Articles  were  written,  letters  published, 
fierce  denunciatory  placards  hung  in  public  places. 
Music,  parades,  fireworks,  showed  that  from  some 
mysterious  source  the  opposition  had  secured 
money.  And  when  the  truth  came  out,  bitterly 
did  Governor  Romero  deplore  the  presence  of 
himself  and  daughter  at  the  bull-fight. 

But  besides  money,  which  is  indeed  the  meat 
and  drink  of  a  campaign,  emotion  being  the  air, 
there  had  been  found  a  leader;  not  a  noted 
statesman,  nor  one  who  wielded  power  by  his 
family  prestige,  but  one  able,  heroic,  indomita- 
ble—  Jesus  Delaney.  The  name  was  in  every 
mouth.  He  wrote,  spoke,  ruled. 

Alameda  ablaze,  neighboring  towns  tinder,  on 
all  sides  soon  flared  the  fires  of  a  great  political 

260 


THE   MANDATE  26l 

uprising.  But  it  was  only  among  the  masses ; 
not  a  single  man  of  prominence  participated. 

"Won't  last,"  said  Craig  to  me. 

"  One  word  from  the  City  of  Mexico  and  it  will 
stop,"  said  Consul  Leech,  whose  grin,  however, 
had  something  of  uneasiness,  while  he  admitted 
numerous  despatches  to  the  Department  regard- 
ing the  situation.  Still  he  and  Craig  were  right. 
The  day  of  revolution  in  Mexico  is  sped. 

When  the  whole  populace  seemed  at  white  heat 
against  Benavides,  when  demonstrations  every- 
where were  most  violent  and  threatening,  from  a 
central  power  absolute  as  that  of  any  government 
on  earth,  went  forth  the  mandate,  —  Benavides 
must  be  sustained. 

Politicians  knew  that  mandate  and  acquiesced. 
Merchants  heard  and  submitted.  Professional 
men  listened  and  obeyed.  For  whosoever  dared 
to  set  himself  against  it  knew  the  consequences. 
The  civil  authorities  became  alert.  The  military 
bristled  into  menacing  readiness.  Then  followed 
a  formal  proclamation,  reciting  that  for  the  main- 
tenance of  law  and  order  public  meetings  were 
prohibited. 

I  sought  Jesus  and  found  him  at  his  house. 
Never  had  he  looked  so  well  to  me.  He  moved 
and  talked  as  if  filled  with  the  inspiration  of  a  holy 


262  JESUS   DELANEY 

cause.     I  showed  him  the  proclamation  declaring 
further  meetings  unlawful. 

"  What  will  you  do  now  ?  "    I  asked. 
'    "  I  will  hold  a  meeting  on  the  plaza  to-night," 
he  answered,  and  his  eyes  flashed  defiance. 

"  But  you  must  respect  the  law." 

"The  law  must  respect  the  people." 

It  was  useless  to  argue ;  he  was  a  fanatic. 

I  knew  what  was  bound  to  happen  if  he  per- 
sisted ;  a  meeting  in  the  face  of  the  proclamation 
would  be  rank  rebellion. 

I  went  to  the  Reverend  Lamb  and  told  him  the 
facts.  He  realized  their  gravity. 

"  But  it  is  not  an  affair  of  ours,"  he  said. 
"Jesus  by  his  conduct  has  severed  forever  his 
relations  with  me  and  mine."  Mrs.  Lamb,  how- 
ever, was  deeply  moved.  "  I  myself  will  go  to 
him,"  she  said,  "and  try  to  dissuade  him  from 
such  madness." 

"  I  will  accompany  you,"  said  Miss  Anderson, 
who  still  had  some  lingering  notion  of  influence. 

Mrs.  Lamb  never  related  to  me  the  details  of 
the  interview,  nor  did  Miss  Anderson.  But  the 
latter  manifested  for  the  first  time  an  un-Christian 
spirit  of  resentment. 

"  What  could  you  expect,"  she  said,  "  from 
one  of  his  mongrel  antecedents  and"  —  looking 
viciously  at  me  —  "  associations  ? " 


THE   MANDATE  263 

The  meeting  had  been  called  for  the  plaza,  but 
long  before  the  hour  set,  the  whole  police  force  of 
Alameda  was  gathered  to  disperse  it;  moreover, 
the  word  had  gone  forth  that  if  the  affair  became 
serious  the  signal  of  a  rocket  would  bring  the  mili- 
tary, who  were  under  arms  and  formed  in  front  of 
their  quarters. 

Craig  and  myself  did  not  venture  out  that  night, 
although  I  had  hopes  that  the  mere  display  of 
force  would  suffice.  It  did.  Crowds  passed  the 
hotel,  but  returned.  No  rocket  ascended.  There 
was  no  noise,  no  riot,  the  meeting  was  abandoned. 

My  gratification  at  this  was  mingled  with  some 
surprise.  Had  Jesus  changed  his  mind  ?  Was 
he  intimidated  ?  The  latter  seemed  most  reason- 
able and  yet  was  not  in  keeping  with  his  character. 
Craig  and  myself  were  discussing  the  affair  at  the 
hotel. 

"  That  fellow  wants  to  speak  to  you,"  said 
Craig. 

I  looked  up,  and  there,  bare-footed,  bare-headed, 
and  evidently  under  great  excitement,  was  Antonio. 

"  Jesus  esta  arrestado,"  he  said,  and  without  an- 
other word  turned  and  trotted  off. 

Jesus  was  arrested !  That  accounted  for  the 
abandonment  of  the  meeting.  Arrested  !  It  was 
a  bold  stroke  of  the  authorities. 


CHAPTER   XLIV 

ANTONIO   TO   THE    RESCUE 

THROUGH  the  streets  trotted  Antonio,  and  when 
he  met  any  one  whom  he  had  ever  seen  in  com- 
pany with  Jesus,  or  at  his  meetings,  or  whom  he 
knew  to  be  his  friend,  he  told  of  the  arrest, 
"Jesus  esta  arrestado,"  and  trotted  on.  At  the 
market-place,  on  the  plaza,  at  the  church,  he  made 
his  sudden  appearance,  announced  the  news,  and 
vanished.  Jesus  had  bade  him  tell  his  friends, 
and  such  was  the  fellow's  method.  He  vouch- 
safed no  explanation,  gave  no  details.  Now  he 
would  pass  a  solitary  stroller,  stop  an  instant,  mur- 
mur, "  Jesus  esta  arrestado,"  and  be  off ;  now  he 
would  reach  a  group  discussing  the  day's  events, 
"Jesus  esta  arrestado";  now  his  bushy  head  and 
distorted  face  would  be  thrust  in  at  a  window, 
"Jesus  esta  arrestado,"  and  so  he  went.  But  the 
news,  by  that  wireless  telegraphy  which  is  ever  in 
operation  among  the  lower  classes,  had  in  many 
cases  preceded  him.  Men  tried  to  stop  him  for 
further  facts,  but  he  eluded  them ;  his  mind  was 

264 


ANTONIO   TO   THE   RESCUE  265 

loaded  with  that  one  definite  duty,  and  he  was 
discharging  it. 

The  groups  became  less  frequent,  but  larger. 
He  reached  a  corner  where  but  a  few  nights 
previously  a  meeting  had  been  held.  Here  the 
crowd  was  so  great,  further  progress  was  impos- 
sible. "  Jesus  esta  arrestado ! "  he  shouted 
hoarsely.  "Jesus  esta  arrestado!"  He  was 
seized  by  excited  hands,  hustled  forward  and 
raised  to  a  rude  platform.  He  knew  only  his  mis- 
sion and  announced  it,  "  Jesus  esta  arrestado !  " 
There  was  a  howl  of  fury.  "Jesus  esta  arrestado  !  " 
he  again  declared,  and  there  was  a  louder,  fiercer 
outburst. 

"Que  debemos  hacer?"  cried  a  hundred  voices. 
What  ought  we  to  do?  was  their  question  to  An- 
tonio. 

Antonio  scarcely  understood.  He  tried  to  get 
down,  but  the  crowd  was  too  close. 

"  Que  debemos  hacer  ? "  they  shouted  again. 

The  one  wish  of  Antonio's  heart  sprung  to  his 
lips :  — 

"  Vamos  a  la  carcel!  "  (Let  us  go  to  the  jail!) 
"  Vamos  a  la  carcel,"  he  called. 

Instantly  an  opening  was  made  for  him.  He 
passed  through  amid  cheers,  the  crowd  closed  — 
he  was  its  leader. 


266  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  Vamos  a  la  carcel ! "  all  took  up  the  cry. 
"  Vamos  a  la  carcel !  "  Stragglers  fell  in,  cantinas 
emptied  out  The  mob,  for  it  had  become  a  mob, 
swelled  to  startling  bulk,  now  choking  the  narrow 
street,  now  rolling  rapidly  onward.  A  couple  of 
mounted  officers,  hearing  the  clamor,  came  dash- 
ing up  and  were  engulfed.  A  whole  police  squad 
was  next  overpowered.  Soon  the  jail  was  reached. 
It  was  unprepared  for  an  attack.  The  Fat  Official 
dozing  at  his  desk,  the  few  policemen  on  watch, 
were  hardly  roused  by  the  noise  before  they  were 
seized,  beaten  senseless,  and  the  mob  had  full 
possession.  Doors  were  crushed  open  and  pris- 
oners released  indiscriminately,  until  at  last  they 
found  Jesus.  Whether  he  knew  the  folly  of  what 
had  been  done  I  cannot  say,  but  it  was  too  late 
to  stop  it.  A  mob's  love  is  almost  as  dangerous 
as  its  hate.  All  tried  to  embrace  him  at  once,  so 
that  only  his  great  strength  saved  him  from  suffo- 
cation. He  was  lifted  bodily  and  borne  in  triumph 
out  into  the  street  and  the  main  plaza. 

Here  he  addressed  the  multitude.  With  such 
an  audience,  under  such  circumstances,  who  could 
maintain  discretion  ?  Certainly  not  one  of  the  hot 
blood  of  Jesus.  Before  him  the  people,  the  sole 
source  of  power,  the  sovereigns,  the  creators  of 
law.  They  had  liberated  him  from  the  clutch  of 


ANTONIO   TO   THE   RESCUE  26/ 

tyranny.  They  had  defeated  the  machinations 
of  priestcraft;  they  had  shown  themselves  the 
masters  and  not  the  slaves  of  men  like  Benavides. 
The  hated  name  evoked  a  fearful  demonstration. 

It  was  sublime. 

No  wonder  Jesus  felt  a  sense  of  power,  an  assur- 
ance of  success  such  as  he  never  felt  before.  No 
wonder  his  dreams  of  ambition  took  definite  hope 
of  greatness.  Far  as  the  eye  could  reach  that 
human  sea  roared  and  surged.  What  could  with- 
stand its  power,  its  passion  ? 

What  ? 

A  hissing  sound  assailed  the  ear.  It  was  a 
rocket  which  rose  and  burst  into  sparks  against 
the  sky.  Every  face  was  upturned  —  every  voice 
hushed  —  the  sea  was  instantly  calm. 

Then  sharp  and  menacing  came  the  stirring  call 
of  the  bugle. 

At  the  very  first  peal  a  commotion  could  be  ob- 
served —  there  was  a  distinct  movement  backward 
—  a  general  turning  round. 

"  Los  soldados  !  "  was  whispered.  "  Los  solda- 
dos !  "  some  murmured.  "  Los  soldados  vienen. 
Corren ! "  came  a  frightened  outcry.  It  was  the 
soldiers. 

There  was  none  of  that  sullen,  Anglo-Saxon 
obstinacy  which  scoffs  the  menace  of  force  and 


268  JESUS   DELANEY 

defies  shot  and  steel.  An  instant  panic  seized  the 
multitude ;  every  man  for  himself.  Ere  the  sin- 
gle company  of  uniformed  men  appeared  at  the 
other  end  of  the  plaza,  Jesus  was  alone. 

No ;  not  altogether  alone,  for  as  he  leaped  from 
the  abandoned  platform,  he  descried  Antonio 
squatted  on  the  ground  and  fast  asleep. 


CHAPTER  XLV 

A   TERRIFIED    CONSUL 

WHEN  the  mob  was  passing  the  hotel  on  its  way 
to  attack  the  jail,  a  few  of  the  rougher  pelados  ran 
into  the  office  flourishing  weapons.  Some  articles 
of  value  were  carried  off  and  a  large  plate-glass 
mirror  was  shattered.  The  guests  were  greatly 
frightened.  None  knew  what  would  come  next. 
Stories  of  plunder,  robbery,  arson,  and  murder  ran 
from  tongue  to  tongue.  The  jail  had  been  sacked  ! 
The  police  overpowered  !  The  military  had  joined 
the  mob !  It  was  no  longer  a  riot  but  a  revolution  ! 
Craig,  who  was  in  his  talkative  mood,  dwelt  on  the 
accelerative  speed  of  such  affairs  and  the  great 
peril  to  life  and  property,  particularly  for  foreigners. 
Having  confidence  in  his  knowledge  of  Mexico,  as 
had  the  other  American  guests  (three  lady  tourists), 
all  became  concerned  for  personal  safety.  We 
consulted  together  and  concluded  to  send  word  to 
Leech  and  demand  his  protection  as  our  consul. 
Craig  volunteered  to  take  the  message  to  the  con- 

269 


2 ;o  JESUS   DELANEY 

sul's  house,  and  soon  returned  with  the  news  that 
Leech  was  at  the  consulate  with  his  family. 

"  I  never  saw  a  man  so  scared  in  my  life,"  he 
said.  "  Instead  of  his  protecting  us,  he  wants  us  to 
come  and  protect  him.  He  has  sent  messages  to 
the  police  and  the  military." 

So  the  three  ladies,  escorted  by  Craig  and  my- 
self, went  to  the  consulate.  We  had  difficulty 
getting  in,  for  the  door  was  locked,  and  I  believe 
Leech  was  so  frightened  he  could  not  find  the  key- 
hole. But  finally  we  were  admitted. 

There  was  no  sign  of  disorder  near  the  consulate. 
We  sat  there  while  Craig  told  such  harrowing  tales 
of  his  personal  experience  in  similar  uprisings  that 
again  and  again  Leech  rose  with  white  face  and 
pallid  lips  to  ring  up  the  military.  But  he  got 
no  response.  After  some  time  Craig  and  myself 
ventured  out  to  reconnoitre.  Not  a  soul  was  stir- 
ring ;  we  could  hear  the  wild  cheers  of  the  crowd 
on  the  plaza.  These  increased  as  we  went  on  and 
finally  became  almost  deafening.  At  that  moment 
a  rocket  went  up,  illuminating  the  heavens.  The 
cheering  slackened,  then  ceased,  and  all  was  silent. 
We  walked  down  the  street  for  some  distance,  sur- 
prised at  the  quietude.  Soon  we  met  a  man  run- 
ning and  crying :  "  Los  soldados !  Ya  viene  la 
tropa!  Los  Mochos!  "  Another  followed,  a  pair, 


A   TERRIFIED   CONSUL 


2/1 


a  panting,  wild-eyed  rush  of  fugitives.  The  num- 
ber grew  so  rapidly,  so  great,  it  was  appalling.  We 
had  to  turn  into  a  side  street.  We  heard  scatter- 
ing shots  —  a  volley  —  a  fusillade.  Realizing  our 
own  peril,  we  stopped  in  a  sort  of  archway.  Bul- 
lets hissed  and  cried  close  to  our  ears,  threw  up 
the  gravel,  buried  in  the  adobe  walls  beside  us. 

"  Let  us  get  out  of  here,"  said  Craig,  and  start- 
ing on  a  run  we  came  plump  against  Antonio  and 
Jesus.  Recognition  was  mutual.  But  there  was 
no  time  for  explanation.  Ever  that  hiss  and 
shriek  of  hungry  lead. 

"Come  on,"  said  Craig,  and,  all  following,  we 
soon  darted  into  the  American  consulate.  We 
locked  the  door.  Leech  was  invisible,  but  his 
voice,  weak  and  tremulous,  came  from  an  inner 
room. 

"  Who  is  there  ? "  he  whimpered. 

"  Me,"  said  Craig.  Just  then  there  was  loud 
knocking  at  the  door,  and  a  bullet  shattered  the 
window. 

"  Come  out,  Leech,  and  declare  yourself.  This 
is  the  American  consulate,"  I  cried,  but  the  craven 
groaned  in  abject  terror. 

"  Abren  la  puerta  !  Abren  la  puerta !  "  (Open 
the  door!)  cried  voices  outside.  Craig,  splendid 
little  man  that  he  is,  stood  facing  the  door  and 


2/2  JESUS   DELANEY 

called  back  in  excellent  Spanish,  "  Este  es  el 
Consulado  Americano  y  nadie  debe  tocarlo  a  su 
peligro !  "  (This  is  the  American  consulate  and 
nobody  must  touch  it  at  his  peril !) 

Then  could  be  heard  the  exciting  hum  of  voices. 

"  Quien  esta  hablando  ? "  demanded  some  one 
authoritatively. 

"  El  Consul  Americano,  Sefior  Leech,"  said 
Craig,  dramatically  personating  the  consul. 

"  Bueno  !  bueno  !  Muy  bien  ! "  We  were  left 
undisturbed. 

After  a  while  Leech  ventured  into  the  room. 
At  first  in  his  fright  he  failed  to  notice  Jesus  and 
Antonio.  But  soon  he  recognized  them  and  in- 
sisted on  their  leaving. 

"You  are  not  Americans,"  he  said  excitedly. 
"You  will  get  us  all  into  trouble.  You  must 
leave  at  once." 

Jesus  started  to  go. 

"  They  shall  not  move  a  step,"  said  I,  impulsively. 

"  Not  a  damn  step,"  said  Craig. 

"  I  would  like  to  know  who  is  consul  here  ? " 
said  Leech. 

"  I  was  a  moment  ago,"  said  Craig. 

This  flurried  Leech. 

"But,  gentlemen,"  he  protested,  "the  consular 
regulations  provide  —  " 


A   TERRIFIED   CONSUL 


273 


"  For  the  exercise  of  common  humanity,"  said 
Craig. 

I  have  already  told  you  that  a  stimulant  gave 
the  fellow  a  magnificent  vocabulary,  and  now  he 
was  under  the  stimulus  of  intense  excitement. 

"  These  are  Mexicans,"  said  Leech,  "  subject  to 
the  law  of  the  land." 

"  And  we  and  they  are  Christians  subject  to  the 
law  of  God,"  I  put  in.  "  I  protest  against  turning 
them  out  under  such  circumstances." 

"  But  I  must,"  said  Leech,  almost  whining.  "  I 
will  get  myself  into  trouble  with  my  Department." 

Jesus  came  forward,  his  calm,  intrepid  dignity 
in  striking  contrast  to  the  weak  poltroon. 

"  I  thank  you,  gentlemen,  for  your  great  kind- 
ness to  me,  but  this  is  Consul  Leech's  office.  I 
will  not  impose  myself  on  him  or  any  man.  Come, 
Antonio." 

Before  we  could  interfere,  he  unlocked  the  door 
and  with  Antonio  disappeared  in  the  darkness. 

We  heard  shouts  and  shots  and  the  rush  of  foot- 
steps. But  it  would  have  been  folly  to  venture  out. 
We  could  only  sit  and  listen  and  hope  while  the 
dread  night  wore  on  without  knowing  what  became 
of  them.  I  learned  afterward,  however,  and  may 
as  well  put  it  down  here. 

They  were  seen  and  pursued.    Jesus,  who  could 


2/4  JESUS   DELANEY 

run  like  a  greyhound,  might  have  easily  escaped, 
but  even  to  save  himself  he  would  not  forsake  An- 
tonio—  the  latter's  short  legs,  therefore,  set  the 
pace.  Down  the  street  they  ran,  ever  under  fire, 
and  nearer  drew  their  pursuers.  Capture  seemed 
certain,  and  capture  meant  instant  death.  Seizing 
Antonio's  hand,  Jesus  turned  swiftly  into  a  narrow 
cross-street.  He  knew  he  had  but  a  moment.  "  Do 
you  know  any  one  hereabouts,  Antonio  ?"  he  asked. 
"  Si !  "  panted  Antonio,  "  es  la  calle  Santa  Maria, 
aqui  es  la  casa  de  la  Senora  Garda."  It  was 
Santa  Maria  Street,  and  near  them  was  the  house 
of  Dona  Garda.  At  a  bound  Jesus  reached  the 
door,  and  without  rapping  they  entered.  To  his 
amazement  there  sat  Mrs.  Lamb  with  a  child  upon 
her  knee,  watching  while  its  sick  mother  slept. 
"Jesus!"  she  said  rising,  "what  means  this?" 

"  Pardon  me,"  he  answered,  "  we  are  pursued ; 
but  we  must  not  disturb  you." 

He  started  to  go  out,  although  the  tumult  of  the 
chase  now  filled  the  street. 

"  Stay,"  said  Mrs.  Lamb.  "  Hide  here,"  and 
against  his  will  she  thrust  him  and  Antonio  be- 
hind a  great  blanket  that  hung  from  the  wall.  Its 
folds  had  scarcely  fallen  when  the  door  was  pushed 
violently  open,  and  an  officer  sprang  in  with  drawn 
sword  heading  an  excited  file  of  soldiers. 


A  TERRIFIED  CONSUL  275 

He  stopped. 

Mrs.  Lamb,  still  holding  the  child,  stood  before 
him.  Even  in  the  dim  light  of  a  single  flickering 
candle,  her  tall  figure,  noble  features,  and  crown  of 
snow-white  hair  gave  her  the  bearing  of  a  queen. 
The  officer  knew  her,  and  more  than  one  of  his 
soldiers  had  reason  to  bless  her  work.  He  saluted. 

"  Pardon,  madam,"  he  said  courteously  in  Span- 
ish ;  "  but  I  must  ask  you  are  there  two  men  in  this 
house  ? " 

What  she  would  have  answered,  none  will  ever 
know.  As  for  me  I  have  no  doubt  on  that  point. 
Mrs.  Lamb  was  a  woman  who  would  not  shrink 
from  sacrificing  her  very  soul  for  humanity's 
sake.  Yes  —  I  mean  it — her  immortal  soul  if 
need  be! 

But,  thank  God !  She  was  saved  from  so  cruel  a 
test.  Before  she  could  answer,  the  baby,  alarmed 
by  the  strange  invasion,  suddenly  set  up  a  wail 
that  roused  the  sick  mother. 

She  awoke  just  in  time  to  hear  the  officer's  ques- 
tion repeated,  and  knowing  nothing  of  the  presence 
of  Jesus  and  Antonio,  naturally  resented  the  impu- 
tation the  inquiry  conveyed.  Such  a  vehement  de- 
nial, such  a  torrent  of  complaint,  such  a  whirlwind 
of  abuse  and  vituperation  followed,  that  the  officer 
bowed  low  to  Mrs.  Lamb  and  hastily  retreated. 


2/6  JESUS  DELANEY 

He  and  his  men  were  far  away  on  another  trail 
and  the  mother  and  baby  were  again  asleep,  before 
Jesus  and  Antonio  came  from  behind  the  blanket, 
and  with  Mrs.  Lamb's  blessing  quietly  sped  from 
the  premises. 


CHAPTER   XLVI 

THE   WOOD   VENDOR 

I  EXPECTED  that  the  next  day  would  bring  re- 
newed disturbances.  But  there  were  none.  Every- 
thing seemed  in  its  usual  routine.  The  turmoil  and 
terror  of  the  night  were  gone.  The  market  had 
its  customary  crowd  of  quiet,  orderly,  cigarette- 
smoking  loungers  and  buyers  and  sellers;  the  ordi- 
nary traffic  went  on  in  the  streets,  even  the  plaza 
where  the  rioters  held  their  meeting  had  its  placid 
procession  of  promenaders.  Only  the  jail  looked 
harshly  dealt  with.  It  had  an  aspect  of  fire  and 
earthquake. 

The  Fat  Official  was  no  more  —  dead  of  fright, 
apoplexy,  violence,  none  could  say.  His  encoffined 
body  lay  in  the  jail  visited  by  the  curious.  During 
the  afternoon  I  chanced  to  look  in  and  observed  a 
woman  kneeling  by  the  dead,  unconscious  of  the 
passing  throng.  She  raised  a  tear-stained  face  as 
I  went  by,  and  on  it  was  a  look  of  piteous  grief 
and  terror. 

Poor  Lupita  !     No  longer  a  child. 
277 


278  JESUS   DELANEY 

Six  had  been  killed.  One,  a  crippled  beggar, 
sitting  near  the  cathedral  and  keeping  up  his 
continuous  prayer  for  alms,  was  shot  through 
the  heart.  Another,  an  old  priest  who  during 
the  panic  had  thrust  his  head  from  an  open 
window  and  was  counselling  peace,  received  a 
bullet  in  the  brain.  A  third,  a  poor  woman,  at 
her  fruit  stand.  None  of  the  dead  had  any  con- 
nection with  the  riot. 

But  it  was  over.  Even  the  funeral  of  the 
victims  made  no  commotion.  Neither  did  the 
frequent  arrests. 

That  phase  of  fatalism  in  the  Mexican  character, 
that  Indian  stoicism,  was  strongly  manifest.  An 
American  community  after  such  an  outbreak  would 
have  taken  weeks  to  settle  down.  Here,  what  was 
done  was  done ;  the  masses  were  indifferent. 

But  the  hunt  for  those  charged  with  active 
participation  in  the  riot  was  pushed  relentlessly. 
Some  had  been  conspicuous  and  were  recognized, 
some  had  been  formally  accused,  but  the  most 
sought  after  of  all  was  Jesus.  He  was  the  head 
and  front  of  the  offending.  The  whole  evil  was 
charged  upon  him.  He  had  designed  the  attack 
on  the  jail,  sent  forth  emissaries  to  stir  up  the 
mob,  and  given  directions  subsequently.  He  had 
murdered  the  Fat  Official,  shot  the  aged  priest 


THE  WOOD  VENDOR 


279 


and  the  poor,  defenceless  woman.  Of  these 
crimes  he  was  accused  in  the  public  press,  and 
they  were  aggravated  by  the  additional  offence 
that  he  was  a  missionary,  an  apostate  in  league 
with  the  religious  enemies  of  his  country.  I  im- 
agined from  the  tone  of  the  articles  that  a  danger- 
ous public  sentiment  would  be  worked  up  against 
the  Institute,  but  there  was  no  indication  of  it. 
The  attendance  there  was  as  good  as  ever,  the 
few  converts  particularly  zealous. 

Police  and  military  were  in  active  rivalry  to 
secure  Jesus.  They  were  stimulated  by  the  offer 
of  a  high  reward.  Every  train  leaving  the  city 
was  stopped  and  searched.  Every  house  that 
might  be  supposed  to  harbor  him  was  entered  and 
examined.  Even  the  Institute  was  invaded,  and 
every  nook  and  corner  scrutinized.  But  no  trace 
of  him.  I  expected  momentarily  to  hear  of  his 
arrest,  and  arrest  I  was  told  would  be  surely  fol- 
lowed by  summary  trial  and  execution.  My  heart 
went  out  to  the  unfortunate  lad ;  but  I  could  be 
of  no  service.  My  only  hope  was  that  he  might 
manage  to  elude  pursuit  and  leave  the  country. 
As  day  succeeded  day  without  his  capture,  my 
hopes  strengthened.  Surely  if  he  were  anywhere 
in  Alameda  or  the  vicinity,  he  would  have  been 
already  seized.  A  local  paper  made  the  statement 


280  JESUS  DELANEY 

that  he  had  been  seen  and  spoken  with  at  Eagle 
Pass  on  the  American  side  of  the  Rio  Grande. 
This  seemed  quite  probable  and  was  generally 
accepted.  I  confidently  looked  for  a  letter  from 
Eagle  Pass  announcing  his  safety. 

Ten  days  after  the  riot  I  was  sitting  in  the 
office  of  the  hotel,  an  interested  observer  of  the 
dickering  between  the  American  clerk  (a  recent 
arrival  from  Texas)  and  a  native  over  a  load  of 
wood  which  the  latter  wished  to  sell.  From  four 
dollars  the  price  had  fallen  six  and  a  half  cents 
a  quotation  down  to  two  dollars,  at  which  it  was 
taken.  But  the  demeanor  of  the  clerk,  openly 
violent  and  offensive,  and  the  suave,  gentle  man- 
ner of  the  native  was  a  study.  No  wonder  the 
Mexican  hates  the  Gringo.  The  bargain  was 
finally  closed,  the  wood  delivered,  and  money  paid, 
but  the  native  seemed  puzzled  to  count  it.  Look- 
ing about  him,  he  came  over  to  me  asking  me  to 
count  it.  I  did  so  and  told  him  it  was  right.  On 
returning  it,  I  found  a  piece  of  paper  in  my  hand 
which  read, — 

Follow  the  bearer.  — J. 

The  native  walked  out,  mounted  his  wagon,  and 
was  lashing  his  burros  for  the  journey  homeward. 
Without  stopping  to  reason  as  to  consequences, 


THE   WOOD   VENDOR  28 1 

I  followed.  The  clumsy  wagon  and  dull  beasts 
went  leisurely  along  until  they  reached  an  unfre- 
quented street  in  the  suburbs.  Here  they  stopped. 
I  came  up.  The  native  accosted  me,  — 

"  Senor,  quiere  Vd.  pasear  en  mi  coche  ? " 

I  looked  at  him  closely ;  there  was  a  familiar 
smile  on  the  face  shaded  by  a  heavy  sombrero. 
But  surely  it  could  not  be  —  the  sombrero  was 
lifted  —  there  came  a  ringing  laugh  —  yes,  it  was 
he !  My  amazement  instantly  turned  to  fear. 

"  This  is  madness ;  you  will  be  recognized." 

"  No  danger,"  he  said,  and  resumed  his  som- 
brero. The  metamorphosis  was  complete. 

"We  must  not  stand  here  talking,"  he  said. 
"To-morrow  you  can  come  where  I  am.  Drive 
along  this  road  until  you  reach  the  bosque ;  I  will 
see  you.  Adios  !  " 

I  stood  looking  after  him,  marvelling  at  the 
audacity  of  the  man,  when  a  voice  startled  me. 

"Won't  you  let  me  carry  you  to  the  hotel?" 
I  turned  and  saw  Leech  in  his  gig,  grinning. 
There  was  a  mean  leer  in  his  face,  and  the  eyes 
seemed  greener  and  smaller  and  greedier.  I  did 
not  want  his  company,  but  could  give  no  ready 
excuse,  so  I  got  in  with  him. 

"This  is  an  odd  place  for  a  pedestrian,"  he 
continued,  almost  closing  his  white-lashed  eyes, 


282  JESUS   DELANEY 

"an  odd  kind  of  place,"  he  repeated  with  mali- 
cious meaning. 

"  I'm  an  odd  kind  of  fellow,"  said  I. 

"  You  certainly  have  had  very  odd  experiences, 
and  got  out  of  them  luckily  too  —  very  luckily 
indeed  —  very  luckily." 

I  was  about  to  say  "  No  thanks  to  you,"  but 
checked  myself. 

"  Isn't  it  strange  they  don't  catch  Jesus  ? "  he 
asked. 

"Very,"  said  I. 

"There  is  a  big  reward  offered  for  him." 

"  I  hope  the  poor  fellow  gets  away.  Don't 
you?" 

"  Hum !  It  wouldn't  be  right  in  my  position 
to  so  express  myself;  but  you  know  where  my 
heart  is." 

"  Damned  if  I  do,"  said  I  to  myself,  but  re- 
mained silent. 

"  Of  course,"  Leech  went  on,  "  he  has  made 
much  mischief,  violated  the  law,  and  committed 
great  crimes." 

"  No,  sir !  "  I  interrupted  indignantly,  "  he  has 
committed  no  crime." 

"Well,  I  am  only  saying  what  is  charged 
against  him." 

"  The  charges  are  outrageous.     Time  will  show 


THE  WOOD  VENDOR  283 

the  poor  fellow  innocent  of  any  intentional 
wrong." 

I  alighted  at  the  hotel  and  bade  Leech  good- 
by.  Something  in  his  manner  from  the  moment 
he  accosted  me  on  the  road  made  me  uneasy. 
I  stood  and  watched  him  as  he  drove  down  the 
street. 

He  stopped  before  the  military  headquarters. 


CHAPTER   XLVII 

CAPTURED 

THAT  night  Craig  called  my  attention  to  a 
policeman  standing  near  while  we  sat  talking.  I 
looked  up  and  the  fellow  moved  off.  Next  morn- 
ing I  passed  the  same  officer  on  my  way  to 
breakfast,  and  when  I  rode  to  the  Institute  in  a 
street  car  he  sat  opposite  me.  It  did  not  occur 
to  me  then  that  I  was  being  watched  or  followed, 
but  I  remarked  the  coincidence. 

After  dinner  I  hired  a  vehicle  to  ride  to  the 
appointed  place.  I  had  no  apprehension  of  dan- 
ger, and  looked  forward  with  pleasure  to  meet 
Jesus  and  advise  with  him. 

The  day  was  very  warm,  not  a  cloud  visible. 
Dust  lay  thick  on  the  road. 

I  had  ridden  a  short  distance  when  I  observed 
in  the  east  what  seemed  to  be  a  rainbow.  I 
stopped  to  study  the  phenomenon. 

A  rainbow  in  a  cloudless  sky  ! 

It  was  all  the  more  startling  as  no  rain  had 
fallen  in  months.  The  drought,  in  fact,  had  been 

284 


CAPTURED  285 

so  prolonged  crops  had  failed  and  cattle  perished. 
But  a  rainbow  it  was  and  the  colors  glowed  and 
mingled  gloriously.  At  home,  thought  I,  a  rain- 
bow follows  a  storm;  here  it  may  presage  one. 
At  the  instant  there  fell  a  few  bright  drops.  It 
was  a  sun  shower  of  rarest  beauty,  and  as  it 
played  and  pattered,  flashing  and  sparkling,  the 
vivid  bow  brightened  and  mounted  from  horizon 
to  zenith,  while  in  the  west  the  tropic  sun  still 
blazed  and  burned. 

The  drops  fell  faster,  and  a  sudden  wind  blew 
strong  and  cool.  I  strove  to  find  a  place  of 
shelter,  and  turning,  beheld  an  ominous  darkness 
bearing  down  upon  me. 

I  was  struck  at  once  by  torrent  and  tornado. 
The  carriage  swayed,  threatening  to  overturn,  the 
horse  trembled  in  dumb  terror  of  some  dread 
disaster.  The  chill  of  death  was  in  the  air.  I 
could  but  sit  and  watch  the  fury  of  the  elements. 
Great  bodies  of  water  writhed  and  fell  around. 
The  heavens  were  an  ocean  in  a  storm  —  the 
earth  that  ocean's  bed. 

I  cannot  tell  how  long  the  tempest  raged.  But 
sudden  as  it  came,  it  ceased.  Cold  and  wet,  I 
looked  about.  Every  trace  of  road  was  gone  — 
the  level  field  which  a  moment  before  lay  parched 
and  barren  had  become  a  lake. 


286  JESUS   DELANEY 

I  could  scarce  credit  my  senses.  And  to  make 
it  all  the  more  weird  and  uncanny,  there  appeared 
on  the  surface  of  the  water,  almost  within  reach, 
a  large  turtle.  Whence  did  it  come  ?  There  was 
not  a  swamp  or  pond  or  river  within  miles.  Did 
it  fall  from  the  clouds?  The  reptile  seemed  to 
hear  my  question  from  the  wise  way  it  looked  at 
me  and  wagged  its  head.  Then  it  swam  slowly 
forward,  and  my  horse  unbidden  followed. 

The  water  lessened  visibly  as  we  moved,  and 
soon  the  turtle  was  on  soil  where  not  a  drop  of 
rain  seemed  to  have  fallen.  Here  it  paused  as  in 
doubt.  Suddenly  a  queer,  quavering  voice  called  : 

"  Con-chi-ta !  Con-chi-ta  !  "  and  the  creature 
started  off  at  once  in  the  direction  of  the  sound. 

Along  the  cactus-covered  field  it  crawled,  now 
slowly  and  with  effort,  again  with  awkward  speed 
whenever  came  that  peculiar  cry,  "  Con-chi-ta  !  " 

I  could  see  no  one,  but  a  short  distance  ahead  of 
us  there  arose  above  the  mesquite  bushes  a  low, 
round  hill,  and  it  was  from  this  the  voice  seemed 
to  come.  Nearing  the  hill,  my  horse  shied  and 
reared  violently.  There  at  his  head  stood  a  hide- 
ous old  Indian,  naked  save  for  a  scant  apron  of 
goatskin.  He  took  the  turtle  in  his  arms,  talked 
to  it,  fondling  and  even  kissing  its  warty  head  and 
making  horrible  grimaces. 


CAPTURED  287 

"  Conchita  carisima  !  Conchita  mala !  Con- 
chita  perdida  ! "  he  quavered  in  the  thin,  weak 
voice  of  age. 

For  the  moment  I  was  so  startled  I  failed  to 
notice  standing  near  a  countryman  who  presently 
came  forward  and  greeted  me,  disclosing,  when  he 
raised  his  sombrero,  the  familiar  face  of  Jesus. 

But  it  was  a  serious  face,  full  of  warning  and 
alarm. 

"  Don't  stay  here,"  he  said.  "  Drive  on  till  you 
come  to  the  road  and  wait  for  me.  I  will  join  you 
in  a  few  minutes."  He  spoke  nervously,  glancing 
with  evident  uneasiness  at  the  Indian,  who  was  still 
petting  his  reptile. 

"  Who  the  devil  is  this  ? "  I  asked. 

Jesus  bent  forward  and  whispered :  — 

"  El  Sabio  —  the  wise  man.  He  is  going  to  tell 
me  all.  He  knows  the  past.  He  knows  the 
future." 

"What  nonsense!"  I  exclaimed.  "Why,  the 
old  beast  don't  know  enough  to  dress  himself." 

"  Hush  !  he  hears  you !  "  Sure  enough  the 
Indian  seemed  to  be  listening,  and  on  his  face 
there  was  a  vicious  look,  half  leer,  half  scowl. 

"Dejalo  esperar,"  he  said  to  Jesus,  who  bowed 
submissively,  bade  me  wait,  and  together  they 
walked  to  a  hole  in  the  side  of  the  hill,  into  which 


288  JESUS  DELANEY 

they  disappeared.  In  a  few  moments  Jesus  came 
out  and  ran  to  meet  me.  He  was  in  a  frenzy  of 
joy. 

"She  will  be  mine!"  he  cried.  "Mine!  Oh 
happiness ! " 

"You're  insane,  young  man,"  said  I,  coldly. 
"Some  rank  hocus-pocus  —  " 

"  Entra  Vd.  a  mi  casa,  Senor."  The  old  Indian 
addressed  me. 

"  He  asks  you  to  enter  his  house.  Go,  and  be 
convinced.  I  will  meet  you  on  the  road,"  said 
Jesus,  and  off  he  ran. 

Now  I'm  sure  I  meant  to  turn  my  horse  and  go 
after  him.  I'm  sure  no  man  in  his  senses  would 
think  of  going  into  that  hole  in  the  hill  with  such 
a  host.  But  before  I  pulled  rein,  the  Indian's  eyes 
were  on  mine  and  (I'm  ashamed  to  admit  it)  I  fol- 
lowed him  into  his  cavelike  dwelling. 

It's  not  worth  telling  what  he  did,  —  how  he  got 
a  long  horn  from  the  wall,  squatted  himself  on  the 
floor  and  blew  a  low,  monotonous  sound  to  which 
the  turtle  turned  and  turned,  darting  its  head 
in  and  out  excitedly,  —  but  what  I  saw  when  he 
handed  me  the  horn  and  with  a  strange,  forceful 
gaze  from  his  eyes  bade  me  look  into  it,  I  hardly 
dare  write.  I  have  thought  over  it,  dreamt  of  it ; 
ay !  awaken  in  the  night  with  the  same  shriek  I 


CAPTURED 


289 


gave  when  —  I  saw  myself  on  a  familiar  street  fall 
prostrate,  and  the  upturned  face  was  the  face  of 
the  dead. 

I  reached  the  road  designated  by  Jesus  before 
recovering  self-control.  Here  I  stopped.  The 
sun  was  just  setting.  Some  little  distance  in  the 
bushes  a  native  was  approaching,  axe  on  shoulder. 
I  heard  the  sound  of  horses'  hoofs,  and  looking 
back  saw  galloping  down  a  body  of  mounted  men. 
They  arrived  where  I  stood  at  the  moment  the 
native  walked  forward. 

My  heart  sank.  They  were  officers  and  the 
native  was  Jesus. 

But  they  did  not  recognize  him. 

"  Parase  !  "  said  the  leader.     Jesus  stopped. 

"  Que  anda  haciendo  ?  "  they  asked  him  sharply. 

"Trozando  lena." 

"  Donde  vive  ?  " 

"  Pos  aca." 

The  face  wore  a  dull,  expressionless  stare.  Had 
I  not  seen  him  in  the  same  garb  an  hour  before,  I 
would  never  have  guessed  who  he  was.  Even  the 
voice  had  the  coarse  fibre  of  the  countryman. 

The  officers  were  completely  deceived. 

"  Vaya  !  "  they  said,  ordering  him  to  go. 

Jesus  started  on.  But  unfortunately  at  this 
moment  a  rabbit  ran  through  the  bushes,  darted 


290  JESUS   DELANEY 

by  us,  and  after  it  at  the  top  of  his  speed  came 
Antonio.  All  knew  him  instantly. 

"  El  conejo  !  El  conejo !  Agarrelo,  Jesus  !  Agar- 
relo  !  "  he  shouted.  (The  rabbit !  The  rabbit ! 
Catch  it !) 

The  officers  sprang  from  their  horses  and  sur- 
rounded Jesus. 

"  Rindase  !  "  cried  the  leader. 

"  Nunca  !  " 

The  axe  whirled  like  lightning,  barely  missing 
the  nearest  man.  There  was  a  flash,  a  report,  and 
Jesus  fell. 

Up  ran  Antonio.  He  had  heard  the  shot  and 
saw  his  beloved  master  lying  motionless.  Be- 
wildered, he  knelt  beside  the  body. 

"  Don  Jesus,"  he  cried.  "  Niflo  mio  !  Don 
Jesus !  " 

They  had  no  fear  of  him.  They  laughed  at  his 
grief. 

Antonio  looked  up,  his  grotesque  features  work- 
ing convulsively.  All  laughed  again,  and  the 
leader  came  forward  and  laid  his  hand  on  his 
shoulder. 

As  if  stung  by  a  serpent,  Antonio  leaped  to  his 
feet ;  then  before  any  could  interfere  he  grasped 
the  axe  lying  by  the  side  of  Jesus  and  with  one 
terrific  blow  buried  it  in  the  brain  of  the  leader. 


CAPTURED 


291 


The  others  threw  themselves  upon  him.  But  the 
dwarfed  creature  had  the  strength  of  insanity,  and 
struggled,  foaming  at  the  mouth.  The  axe  was 
wrenched  away,  and  still  he  fought  with  fists  and 
teeth  until  pounded  into  insensibility. 

***** 

Who  got  the  reward  ?  I  never  learned,  so  I  will 
make  no  accusal.  Yet  deep  in  my  heart  lies  a 
dark  suspicion.  God  forgive  me  if  I  do  injustice, 
but  to  me  certain  hands  are  stained  with  blood- 
money.  Craig  believes  so  too,  and  makes  no 
bones  of  it ;  nay,  told  it  to  his  face  and  the  fellow 
only  grinned. 


CHAPTER  XLVIII 

EXECUTION    OF    ANTONIO 

THE  trial  of  Jesus  and  Antonio  was  pushed 
with  a  vigor  unusual  in  Mexican  courts.  There 
was  a  general  outcry  against  them,  a  clamor  from 
press  and  pulpit,  from  men  in  authority,  from  the 
so-called  better  classes  everywhere,  that  their  pun- 
ishment should  be  swift  and  summary. 

Before  I  was  aware  of  the  imminence  of  their 
peril,  the  examination  was  concluded  and  testimony 
of  witnesses  taken.  I  at  once  engaged  the  ser- 
vices of  the  best  criminal  lawyer  in  Alameda.  He 
informed  me  that  all  the  facts  were  conclusive 
against  Antonio  and. very  strong  against  Jesus; 
there  was  no  hope  for  the  former,  but  proceedings 
might  be  prolonged  in  the  case  of  the  latter ;  the 
longer  the  proceedings,  the  more  chance  for  the 
accused. 

"  Then,"  said  I,  "  prolong  the  proceedings  as 
much  as  you  can." 

"  Delay  is  expensive,"   he   replied.     And  I  so 

found  it. 

292 


EXECUTION   OF  ANTONIO 


293 


But  nothing  could  be  done  for  Antonio.  He 
was  clearly  guilty  of  murdering  an  officer  of  the 
law.  Circumstances  called  for  a  victim.  Antonio 
was  sentenced  to  be  shot. 

I  tried  again  and  again  to  get  an  interview  with 
Jesus.  But  on  one  pretext  or  another  I  was  re- 
fused. Finally  the  lawyer  succeeded  the  day  fol- 
lowing the  conviction  of  Antonio.  I  found  him 
more  concerned  about  the  fate  of  his  servant  than 
himself  ;  he  would  talk  of  nothing  else.  Not  once 
did  he  allude  to  Miss  Romero ;  his  mind  was  full 
of  the  impending  execution. 

"  It  is  murder — murder  !  "  he  exclaimed.  "They 
must  not  murder  poor  Antonio !  "  and  he  paced  up 
and  down  the  cell. 

"As  well  sentence  a  child,"  he  continued. 
"  Can  nothing  be  done  for  him  ?  " 

I  shook  my  head. 

"  God  will  not  permit  it !  God  will  not  permit 
it!" 

I  promised  to  spare  no  efforts  to  have  the  sen- 
tence commuted. 

"Tell  Benavides,"  he  said,  "tell  Benavides  to 
take  my  life  and  spare  Antonio.  He  can  arrange 
it,  I  know  he  can."  He  was  irrational  in  this,  but 
I  could  not  calm  him,  and  more  depressed  than 
ever,  I  left  his  cell. 


294  JESUS   DELANEY 

The  execution  was  to  take  place  at  sunrise  on 
the  following  Monday.  There  were  yet  six  days. 
I  paid  Leech  for  drawing  up  a  strong  appeal  to 
the  Governor  signed  by  the  Reverend  Lamb  and 
the  ladies  of  the  Institute,  setting  forth  the  previous 
good  character  of  the  condemned  and  their  knowl- 
edge of  his  irresponsibility.  I  paid  Leech  also  to  go 
with  me  and  Reverend  Lamb  to  Governor  Romero 
on  the  occasion  of  its  presentation.  The  Governor 
received  us  with  the  utmost  courtesy.  He  listened 
sympathetically  to  the  reading  of  the  petition,  and 
at  its  close,  after  a  few  questions,  assured  us  that 
he  was  greatly  impressed  and  would  investigate 
further.  His  manner  was  so  charming,  so  benign, 
I  could  not  help  feeling  encouraged.  We  left  with 
strong  hopes  of  a  reprieve.  That  same  day  (much 
against  my  will)  I  went  with  my  lawyer  and  Leech 
to  Benavides  and  implored  his  assistance.  Bena- 
vides,  to  my  great  astonishment,  was  likewise 
kindly  and  sympathetic,  and  assured  us  he  would 
set  himself  actively  to  work  in  the  matter,  and,  so 
far  as  his  efforts  went,  we  could  hope  for  the  best. 

I  was  naturally  elated  at  all  this  and  told  Craig, 
but  he  did  not  share  my  confidence. 

"  Why,  sir,"  said  I,  enthusiastically,  "  I  never  in 
all  my  life  have  met  such  approachable,  courteous, 
sympathetic  —  " 


EXECUTION   OF   ANTONIO 


295 


"  Fakes,"  said  Craig,  but  I  knew  his  disposition. 

Twice,  subsequently,  I  visited  the  Governor,  and 
each  time  I  felt  more  encouraged.  Naturally,  as 
the  fatal  day  drew  near  without  a  definite  promise, 
I  became  uneasy.  Still,  even  the  night  before,  I 
could  not  but  believe  that  all  was  right.  The 
reprieve  would  come  at  the  last  minute.  These 
Mexican  officials,  I  reasoned,  like  to  be  melodra- 
matic. I  did  not  sleep  that  night,  however,  and 
felt  nervous  and  anxious  when  I  joined  Leech  and 
Lamb  before  daylight.  We  had  been  invited  to 
witness  the  execution  of  four  bandits,  who  were 
sentenced  to  be  shot  at  the  same  hour  with  Antonio. 

We  reached  the  jail  as  a  file  of  soldiers  were  en- 
tering. Seeing  Benavides  in  the  office,  I  asked 
if  anything  had  been  done.  He  did  not  say  yes, 
but  his  smile  was  unmistakably  affirmative.  The 
reprieve  was  doubtless  granted. 

It  would  not  be  announced  until  the  last  moment. 
"  It  is  all  right,"  I  repeated  to  myself  over  and 
over. 

Governor  Romero  now  made  his  appearance, 
urbane,  beaming,  pleasant,  as  if  going  to  a  dinner 
party.  Indeed,  all  the  officials  had  that  smiling, 
serene,  even  jovial  aspect.  No  one  could  suspect 
they  were  gathered  to  see  human  life  deliberately 
taken  by  act  of  law.  It  jarred  my  very  soul. 


296  JESUS  DELANEY 

I  did  not  get  a  chance  to  speak  to  the  Governor, 
but  I  bowed  to  him,  and  the  cordial  wave  of  his 
hand  and  the  genial  expression  of  his  face  made 
me  doubly  sure.  "  It  is  all  right,"  I  whispered  to 
Leech,  who  only  grinned. 

We  moved  to  the  jail  yard.  There  was  already 
the  pale  gray  of  coming  dawn.  The  soldiers,  with 
an  officer,  were  drawn  up  in  the  centre  of  the 
yard,  and  a  few  paces  from  them  was  a  row  of 
five  stools. 

The  officials  were  still  chatting  gayly  and  jok- 
ing. 

The  dawn  gained  color,  the  first  sunbeam  struck 
the  prison  wall,  a  trumpet  sounded,  and  a  dull  drum 
beat.  Then  from  a  low  archway  came  walking 
out  the  five  condemned  men.  With  them  was  a 
priest  in  his  robes,  holding  aloft  a  crucifix.  Neither 
hands  nor  feet  were  tied,  nor  did  any  of  them  seem 
to  realize  their  fate.  Three  were  smoking  ciga- 
rettes. All  had  a  natural  color.  Not  a  single  one 
trembled  or  faltered  as  they  took  their  appointed 
places  on  the  stools. 

Antonio  was  last.  His  face  beamed  with  the 
same  innocent,  boyish  smile.  It  was  a  new  experi- 
ence for  him. 

He  looked  at  the  crowd,  at  the  soldiers,  at  his 
fellows,  and  I  could  hear  his  low,  contagious  laugh. 


EXECUTION   OF  ANTONIO 


297 


A  child  given  a  new  toy  could  not  have  shown 
more  genuine  enjoyment. 

The  priest  went  from  one  to  the  other  of  the 
bandits,  praying  with  each  awhile  and  offering  to 
bandage  the  eyes.  One,  a  well-dressed,  dainty  fel- 
low, listened  devoutly  to  the  prayer,  but  instead  of 
bandaging  took  the  proffered  handkerchief,  spread 
it  carefully  on  the  ground  and  knelt  upon  it.  An- 
tonio seemed  to  think  the  bandaging  a  joke,  and 
submitted  as  if  it  was  a  part  of  the  game.  But 
every  now  and  then  he  raised  the  handkerchief 
and  peered  out  mischievously  to  see  what  was 
going  on. 

The  officer  in  command  walked  behind  the  con- 
demned men,  pointed  out  the  first  victim,  then 
stepped  aside,  raised  his  sword,  and  in  a  clear  voice 
gave  his  orders  :  — 

"  Preparen  !  "     All  was  ready. 

"  Apunten  !  "     Each  gun  was  aimed. 

"  Fuego  !  "     Out  flashed  the  death  blast. 

My  heart  leaped  and  my  soul  sickened,  as  the 
wretch  whom  the  officer  had  marked,  fell  heavily 
forward. 

Those  left  craned  their  necks  to  see  which  had 
been  the  first,  then  nodded  and  smiled  at  each 
other. 

Antonio  was  startled. 


298  JESUS   DELANEY 

He  lifted  his  bandage  and  arose. 

A  stern  order,  and  he  resumed  his  seat. 

His  smile  was  gone. 

The  game  was  not  fair. 

A  sergeant  of  the  squad  walked  to  the  body  of 
the  fallen  bandit,  rolled  it  over  with  his  foot,  then 
placing  the  muzzle  of  his  gun  near  the  ear,  dis- 
charged it.  The  brains  of  the  dead  spattered  on 
the  living.  It  was  the  "  Golpe  de  gracia." 

Again  the  deadly  ceremony  was  repeated  —  a 
victim  marked,  shot,  mutilated. 

Again,  and  yet  again !  Four  fell  sacrifices  — 
four  disfigured  corpses ! 

Antonio  sat  alone. 

He  had  grown  more  and  more  bewildered.  He 
seemed  to  be  studying  what  it  all  meant.  When 
the  sergeant  approached  the  fourth  victim,  he  had 
looked  at  him  wistfully,  almost  pleadingly,  and 
when  the  awful  discharge  tore  the  face  to  shreds, 
he  shook  his  head  in  protest. 

"  Esto  no  es  bien,"  he  said  pathetically ;  "  esto 
es  malo." 

I  looked  at  the  Governor.     He  was  smiling. 

I  looked  at  Benavides.     He,  too,  was  smiling. 

Surely  the  reprieve  was  at  hand. 

"  Preparen ! " 

"  Apunten ! " 


EXECUTION   OF  ANTONIO 


299 


"  Fuego !  " 

I  shouted  in  desperation,  but  my  voice  was  lost 
in  the  discharge. 

I  could  see  as  in  a  dread  dream  the  sergeant  walk 
to  the  writhing  body  of  Antonio,  place  the  muzzle 
of  his  gun  close  to  the  poor  agonized  face  and  — 

I  fainted. 


CHAPTER   XLIX 

LOVE'S   LEGATE 

DAY  followed  day,  lengthening  to  weeks,  yet  no 
acquittal,  no  decision,  no  apparent  progress.  Now 
he  would  be  taken  before  the  judge,  sworn,  ques- 
tioned, taken  back  to  his  cell.  Again  he  would  be 
confronted  with  the  same  witnesses,  questioned  on 
the  same  facts,  and  again  incarcerated.  The  wheel 
of  justice  turned  and  turned  as  if  its  purpose  were 
to  grind  the  very  heart  of  Jesus.  I  felt  there  was 
no  hope  for  him  —  he  must  die. 

Benavides'  smile  had  a  sinister  menace  —  so  had 
the  dignified  urbanity  of  Romero.  The  whole  pro- 
ceedings seemed  a  mockery.  Yet  it  was  my  duty 
to  do  what  I  could,  even  in  the  face  of  certainty, 
and  I  told  the  attorney  to  spare  no  effort. 

Nor  did  he. 

The  testimony  taken  in  that  case,  the  legal  ques- 
tions raised,  the  reams  of  writing,  would  cure  those 
of  us  who  complain  of  the  law's  delays  at  home. 
Every  evening  the  lawyer  brought  me  a  copy  of 
the  additional  testimony  and  the  new  rulings. 

300 


LOVE'S  LEGATE 


301 


And  I  paid  for  the  copy. 

And  Leech  translated  it. 

And  I  paid  Leech. 

And  officers  stamped  it. 

And  I  paid  for  the  stamps. 

And  I  paid  the  lawyer  for  all. 

But  I  did  not  mind  the  cost ;  it  was  the  aggra- 
vating hopelessness. 

Poor  Jesus!  Ill  and  worn  and  spiritless,  one 
could  hardly  recognize  him  in  the  gaunt-faced 
prisoner  who  daily  passed  the  streets,  escorted  by 
a  file  of  soldiers,  on  his  way  to  court. 

He  believed  himself  responsible  for  Antonio's 
fate.  Often  would  he  tell  me  of  his  dreams.  "  He 
came  to  me  last  night,  Antonio  did.  He  did  not 
speak,  but  he  looked  so  sad,  so  reproachful." 
And  his  eyes  would  fill  and  his  frame  tremble. 

"  I  wonder  if  my  mother  knows.  But  no,  she 
is  in  heaven,  where  no  bad  tidings  ever  enter  — 
she  is  in  heaven  —  if  —  if  there  be  a  heaven." 

I  sought  to  change  the  morbid  current  of  his 
fancies,  but  words  of  mine  were  powerless. 

One  day  the  Reverend  Lamb  came  with  me. 
Jesus  scarce  seemed  to  know  him.  "  Brother," 
said  the  Reverend  Lamb,  "  bring  your  burdens  to 
Him  Who  hath  said,  '  Come  unto  Me,  all  ye  that 
labour  and  are  heavy  laden.' " 


302  JESUS   DELANEY 

Why  is  it  that  on  some  lips  the  Holy  Scriptures 
seem  the  inspired  word  of  God,  on  others  the 
hollowest  cant?  Jesus  was  in  no  mood  for  the 
latter. 

"  God  !  There  is  no  God !  "  he  said  bitterly. 
"  A  fairy  tale  for  children  —  a  ghost  story  !  " 

"  Brother,"  rejoined  the  Reverend  Lamb,  "  do 
not  blaspheme.  Let  us  pray,"  and  he  prayed 
long  and  fervently,  but  he  prayed  alone. 

"  Debe  Vd.  vigilar  mucho  a  este  hombre,"  said 
the  Reverend  Lamb  to  the  guard,  as  we  went  out. 

"  He  is  insane,  talking  of  fairies  and  ghosts," 
aside  to  me.  "  I  have  cautioned  the  guard  to  keep 
close  watch  of  him.  I  fear  he  may  take  his  own 
life." 

Alas  !  the  same  thought  was  in  my  mind.  The 
flame  of  passion  had  burned,  and  the  keen  edge  of 
grief  had  severed  his  faith  in  God  and  man. 

"  Setter  !  "  it  was  the  guard.  "  Quiere  hablar 
contigo,"  said  he  to  me.  "  Es  triste,  Seflor,  muy 
triste." 

Jesus  had  asked  him  to  recall  me.  I  reentered 
the  cell.  He  still  sat  on  the  low  cot,  his  head  bowed. 

"  Aqui  esta  su  amigo,"  said  the  guard. 

"  No  tengo  amigos,"  he  answered. 

"  Surely  I  am  your  friend,  Jesus,"  said  I.  At 
the  sound  of  my  voice  he  sprang  forward. 


LOVE'S   LEGATE 


303 


"  You  must  see  her,"  he  almost  groaned.  There 
was  a  piteous  agony  in  face  and  voice. 

"  Tell  her  —  tell  her  —  O  God  !  What  can  you 
tell  her  —  "  He  sank  back  upon  his  cot. 

Profoundly  moved,  I  laid  my  hand  upon  his 
head. 

"  I  will  tell  her  you  love  her,"  I  said. 

He  did  not  speak,  but  the  gratitude  in 
those  eyes  upturned  to  mine  I  shall  never  for- 
get. 

"  Come  now,  Jesus,  take  a  good  night's  rest. 
You  will  feel  all  right  in  the  morning." 

"  Rest !  "  Oh  !  the  pathetic  meaning  he  put  in 
the  word  !  "  I  want  rest,  but  I  can't  get  it.  I 
want  sleep,  but  night  belongs  to  my  foes,"  he  said. 
"  El  Sabio  lied  to  me !  "  he  was  fierce  again.  "  El 
Sabio  lied !  The  charlatan  !  " 

He  was  referring  to  the  old  Indian  with  the 
turtle,  and  I  was  pleased  to  see  that  his  opinions 
regarding  that  chap  at  last  agreed  with  my  own. 
The  filthy  old  brute !  To  attempt  frightening  me 
with  his  conjuring  tricks. 

"  Do  you  know  that  I  await  the  night  with 
dread?  In  the  day  and  the  light  I  can  think. 
But  the  night  unmans  me.  Read  this  —  I  wrote 
it  yesterday  evening,"  and  he  handed  me  a  sheet 
of  paper  on  which  were  these  verses :  — 


304  JESUS  DELANEY 

Night  shades  are  creeping, 
Where  fair  skies  are  weeping 

Their  humid  farewell  to  the  day's  fading  light, 
Sorrowing,  sighing  near 
Me  as  I'm  lying  here 

Waiting  the  weird  ones  that  come  with  the  night : 

Spirits  all  gloom 

That  come  from  a  tomb 

That  frees  them  by  night  and  confines  them  by  day, 
Ghosts  of  the  years  gone  by, 
Spectres  of  fear  that  I 

Conjured  up  never  to  banish  away. 

Ne'er  bringing  joy  to  me, 
Grief  unalloyed  to  me 

Ever  those  ill-omened  visitors  bear, 
Always  they  sadden  me, 
Sometimes  half  madden  me, 

Sadden  with  memories,  craze  with  despair. 

Shades  still  keep  creeping, 
Where  fair  skies  are  weeping 

Their  humid  farewell  to  the  day's  fading  light, 
Sorrowing,  sighing  near 
Me  as  I'm  lying  here 

Waiting  the  weird  ones  that  come  with  the  night. 

The  deepening  dusk  of  the  hour,  the  wailing  of 
the  winds  about  the  cell,  the  crouching  figure  on  the 
cot,  all  gave  meaning  to  verses  that  might  other- 
wise be  meaningless.  Queer  uneasiness  came  uppn 
me — I  hastily  renewed  my  promise  to  see  Miss 
Romero,  and  left  him. 


CHAPTER  L 

A    METAMORPHOSIS 

IT  is  said  the  older  we  grow  the  wiser  we  get. 
I  doubt  it.  At  twenty  I  would  have  known  better 
than  assume  any  such  unseemly  mission.  The  folly 
of  it !  Undertaking  to  tell  the  daughter  of  the 
Governor,  the  affianced  bride  of  another,  that  a 
man  on  trial  for  murder  was  in  love  with  her ! 

The  more  I  thought,  the  worse  it  looked.  But 
my  word  was  pledged.  How  was  I  to  fulfil  it? 
My  former  feat,  the  delivery  of  the  note,  was  easy 
compared  with  this.  Now  I  must  not  only  meet 
Miss  Romero,  but  meet  her  in  private  and  broach 
a  matter  that  may  be  grossly  offensive.  The  day 
was  mild,  yet  Reverend  Lamb  and  myself  had  only 
walked  a  square  or  two  from  the  jail  when  I  felt 
hot  and  oppressed,  and  big  beads  of  sweat  rolled 
down  my  cheeks.  It  was  not  a  matter  in  which 
I  could  enlist  Mrs.  Lamb ;  it  was  not  a  matter  I 
could  broach  to  her,  yet  it  was  Mrs.  Lamb  who 
came  to  my  rescue.  Put  it  down  in  your  philosophy 
x  305 


306  JESUS   DELANEY 

that  there  is  no  possible  evil  that  a  womanly  woman 
cannot  remedy  or  relieve. 

We  reached  the  Institute.  Mrs.  Lamb  noticed 
my  abstraction,  and  the  moment  her  husband  left 
us  together  she  asked  me,  in  her  kindly  way,  what 
was  troubling  me.  The  question  was  unexpected. 
I  must  have  looked  startled  and  guilty.  But  the 
frank  sympathy  of  that  face  caught  my  confidence. 
I  told  her  all. 

"  Leave  it  to  me,"  she  said. 

Would  you  believe  it  ?  Within  two  hours  I  was 
called  by  her  into  the  parlor,  and  there  sat  Senorita 
Romero. 

I  don't  know  how  she  did  it.  I  was  not  aware 
of  even  an  acquaintance  between  them.  But  there 
was  Miss  Romero,  and  as  I  entered  she  arose  with 
extended  hand. 

"Mucho  me  alegro  de  ver  a  Vd.,  Sefior,"  she 
said. 

No  need  to  tell  me  that  —  her  eyes  and  her  low 
liquid  laugh  said  the  same  thing  —  she  was  glad  to 
see  me.  Was  it  the  moon  through  the  curtained 
window  ?  Surely  mortal  countenance  never  before 
shone  with  such  life  and  light  and  sweetness.  It 
dazzled  me  for  a  moment,  then  saddened.  No 
single  line  of  care,  no  shadow  of  a  lover's  fate, 
that  perfect  beauty  never  knew  the  lightest  touch 


A   METAMORPHOSIS 


307 


of  pain.    What  good  to  tell  my  message  ?    But  my 
word  was  pledged  and  I  began  :  — 

"I  went  to  the  jail  to-day  —  I  mean  —  hoy  fui 
a  la  carcel." 

Did  my  feelings  trick  my  sight?  No;  there 
was  a  dimming  of  the  dawn  upon  those  fair 
cheeks. 

"  He  visto  a  Jesus,"  I  continued. 

At  the  name  she  started,  her  eyes  appealing 
piteously  to  mine. 

"  Jesus  !  "  she  murmured,  "  Jesus  mio  !  Como 
esta  ?  Como  aparece  ?  Habla  de  mi  ? "  —  the  sweet 
face  paled,  clouded,  the  slender  figure  trembled, 
and,  seizing  both  my  hands,  she  wept. 

#  *  *  *  * 

Early  the  next  morning  I  sought  his  cell. 

He  was  transformed.  A  flush  replaced  the 
pallor.  His  eyes  were  bright.  He  sprang  for- 
ward and  embraced  me. 

"It  will  be  easy  to  die  now,"  he  said.  "She 
thinks  of  me,"  and  he  held  up  a  tiny  missive. 

I  could  have  known  its  very  perfume. 

How  it  came  to  him,  what  it  said,  I  know  not; 
but  the  effect  was  marvellous.  Despair  vanished. 
The  world  was  bright.  God  reigned.  What  a 
glorious  fellow  he  was  in  such  a  humor ! 

He  took  his  acquittal  as  a  matter  of  course. 


308  JESUS   DELANEY 

He  began  to  shape  his  future.  He  would  again 
take  up  the  agitation.  Benavides  would  never  be 
governor. 

His  volatile  spirits  rose  and  soared.  His  cot 
was  a  throne,  his  cell  a  palace,  himself  a  king.  I 
did  not  have  the  heart  to  chill  that  happiness,  but 
left  him  in  the  full  enjoyment  of  it. 


CHAPTER  LI 

WEDDING   BELLS   THAT   TOLLED 

EVEN  now  my  eyes  blur,  my  hand  shakes,  as  I 
write. 

I  came  from  his  cell  that  day  with  some  share 
of  his  hopefulness  in  spite  of  myself.  What  might 
not  come  from  love  such  as  his,  such  as  hers  ? 

I  walked  toward  the  plaza,  feeling  better  than  I 
had  felt  for  weeks.  There  was  a  gay  throng  of 
young  people  on  the  street,  and  I  joined  them,  al- 
most as  gay.  They  passed  the  plaza,  crossed  to 
the  cathedral  whose  chimes  were  ringing  merrily, 
and  entered. 

I  went  with  them. 

The  great  edifice  was  filled.  I  supposed  some 
festival  was  about  to  be  celebrated,  for  the  altars 
were  gorgeously  decorated,  and  countless  lights 
flashed  on  the  gold  and  jewels  of  the  madonna. 
Surpliced  acolytes  walked  back  and  forth,  and 
priests  in  splendid  vestments  could  be  seen  from 
time  to  time  leaning  forward  from  the  opening  of 
the  sanctuary. 

3°9 


3io  JESUS   DELANEY 

A  saint  to  be  commemorated,  thought  I,  or  the 
Virgin  to  be  crowned. 

A  grand  peal  from  the  organ,  swelling,  mount- 
ing, inundating  all  with  melody,  and  everybody 
rose,  every  head  was  turned,  every  neck  craned. 
Looking  with  the  rest,  I  saw  a  bevy  of  little  girls, 
winged  like  sprites,  come  smiling  up  the  aisle, 
scattering  flowers. 

Then,  to  my  utter  consternation,  came  Miss 
Romero  on  the  arm  of  her  father,  followed  by 
Mrs.  Romero  and  Benavides. 

It  was  the  bridal  procession,  and  I  was  there  to 
witness  the  wedding  ceremony. 

***** 

On  my  way  back  to  the  hotel  I  met  my  lawyer 
and  Leech. 

"  Bad  news,"  said  Leech,  yet  grinning. 

"  What  ?  "  I  asked  apprehensively. 

"  Jesus  is  condemned  to  be  shot." 

Still  rang  the  great  cathedral  chimes,  the  wed- 
ding bells,  and  Alameda  learned  of  them  love's 
victory;  but  my  own  listening  heart  could  only 
hear  the  tolling,  tolling  of  a  death-knell. 


CHAPTER   LII 

MRS.  LAMB'S  RESOLVE 

I  COULD  not  tell  the  cruel  truth  to  Jesus ;  I  had 
not  the  courage.  Yet  he  must  be  told,  and  at 
once. 

Again  my  refuge  was  Mrs.  Lamb.  Before  I 
reached  the  Institute  she  had  heard  his  fate,  and 
I  could  see  she  had  been  weeping. 

"  Have  you  told  him  ? "  she  asked. 

"  No ;  I  can't !  I  have  come  for  you  to  tell 
him."  She  trembled  and  turned  aside,  but  in  a 
moment  she  was  calm  again. 

"  I  will  go  to  him,"  she  said,  and  together  we 
went  to  the  jail. 

As  we  entered  his  cell  he  rose  to  greet  us, 
eager,  expectant,  confident.  The  delicate  per- 
fume still  lingered  —  his  knightly  heart  was  buoy- 
ant with  hope  and  faith.  Mrs.  Lamb  kissed  him 
tenderly,  and  seating  him  beside  her  on  the  cot 
began,  — 

"  Do  you  remember,  Jesus,  what  made  me  first 
love  you  as  a  lad?" 

3" 


312  JESUS   DELANEY 

He  blushed  and  laughed. 

"You  were  brave,"  she  continued.  "You  let 
me  draw  the  cactus  thorn  and  never  winced.  Is 
my  brave  boy  as  brave  a  man  ? " 

He  felt  some  evil  coming  —  he  seemed  to  see 
now  the  pallor  in  her  face,  the  dread  in  mine. 
His  breath  came  quick  and  he  stood  up,  but  his 
face  took  on  a  fierce  pride. 

"Try  me,"  he  said,  and  he  looked  steadily  in 
her  eyes  as  she  also  rose. 

"  I  will  try  you,  Jesus,  and  I  have  faith  you'll 
stand  the  test.  You  are  condemned  to  die." 

His  proud  eye  quailed  not,  nor  did  his  color 
change. 

"  I  fear  not  death,"  he  said  almost  haughtily. 

"  But  Jesus,  you  would  not,  knowing  your  fate, 
weigh  down  with  it  the  woman  you  love  ? " 

He  strove  to  hold  a  firm  front,  but  in  spite  of 
pride  and  courage  the  color  fled. 

"  Be  man  enough,  Jesus,  to  face  the  truth  and 
keep  no  foolish  hope  within  your  heart  —  Marie 
is  married." 

With  a  groan  of  anguish  he  sank  upon  the  cot. 
And  she  again  sat  beside  him  and  put  her  arms 
about  his  neck  and  talked  to  him  as  to  a  child, 
while  her  tears  flowed  with  his. 

I  could  bear  it  no  longer,  and  left  the  cell. 


MRS.    LAMB'S   RESOLVE 


313 


As  I  emerged,  a  trumpet  sounded  and  a  file  of 
soldiers  marched  by  me  out  of  the  inclosure,  while 
another  file  came  marching  in — the  death  watch. 
A  chill  seized  my  very  heart  at  the  horror  of  it.  I 
stood  there  dazed. 

"  Borrachos,  Sefior !  "  -  It  was  the  guard  who 
spoke  to  me,  touching  my  arm  and  pointing  to 
another  procession  entering  the  yard,  the  bor- 
rachos,  the  day's  draft  of  drunken  offenders. 
Most  of  them  were  familiar  with  the  place  and 
staggered  to  their  accustomed  corners.  Those 
who  could  not  walk  were  carried  in  by  officers 
and  flung  down  promiscuously.  Some  seemed 
new  to  the  experience  and  surveyed  the  surround- 
ings with  befuddled  curiosity.  Others  appeared 
to  enjoy  it  and  smilingly  saluted  the  guard  and 
myself  as  they  passed,  a  few  going  so  far  as  to 
perform  a  fantastic  dance  at  sight  of  us.  We 
are  wont  to  speak  of  the  same  class  at  home  as 
unfortunates,  but  such  would  hardly  be  the  name 
for  them  in  Mexico.  They  were  on  the  whole 
as  contented  a  crowd  as  you  ever  saw  gathered 
together.  They  sang,  they  joked,  they  cavorted; 
they  cheered  for  their  own  country  and  for  mine, 
and  when  exhausted  laid  themselves  on  the  bare 
ground  and  slept. 

One   differently   dressed    from   his   fellows   at- 


314  JESUS   DELANEY 

tracted  my  attention.  He  wore  black  clothes, 
torn  and  muddy,  and  a  badly  damaged  high  hat. 
Despite  the  bloated  features  and  blackened,  blood- 
shot eyes,  I  recognized  Brother  Baez.  He  knew 
me,  and  stopped  in  front  of  me,  swaying  from 
side  to  side.  He  strove  to  assume  an  injured 
air,  but  in  spite  of  himself  he  would  lapse  into  a 
leer. 

"  Ro — hie — Rome  per — per — hie — s'cution,"  he 
muttered,  eying  me.  "Thish  work  scar — hie — 
scarlet  woman.  Beast — hie — seven  horns."  He 
shed  tears  and  sobbed,  but  the  demon  of  strong 
drink  mastered  the  demon  of  hypocrisy,  and  his 
sobs  slobbered  into  a  maudlin  laugh. 

"  Seven — hie — horns !  Wish  I  had  'em — whoop ! 
Sev — hie — seven  horns — Viva  Bab — hie — Baby- 
lon ! "  He  was  mouthing  and  mocking  thus  when 
Mrs.  Lamb  rejoined  me.  She,  too,  recognized 
him,  but  the  quick  flush  of  disgust  that  rose  into 
her  face  was  soon  succeeded  by  a  profound  pity. 
Even  Baez,  drunk  as  he  was  seemed  sensible  of  it 
and  staggered  hiccoughing  away. 

We  did  not  speak  until  we  reached  the  Institute. 

"Jesus  is  reconciled,"  she  said,  "but  we  must 
save  him." 

"Save  him  —  the  law  is  inexorable  —  we  cannot 
prevail  against  it." 


MRS.    LAMB'S   RESOLVE  3x5 

"  Not  we !  But  there  is  one  in  Mexico  who 
can — one  whose  will  can  thwart  the  law  when 
law  would  thwart  the  right.  He  gave  his  country 
liberty ;  his  country  has  given  him  power.  I  shall 
appeal  to  him." 

"  You  mean  —  " 

"Porfirio  Diaz." 


CHAPTER   LIII 

MARSHALLING   FOR   MERCY 

OF  all  the  workers  I've  ever  known  I  give  the 
laurel  to  Mrs.  Lamb.  Energy  !  She  is  the  one 
woman  in  the  world  capable  of  what  she  accom- 
plished. Will !  Why,  we  were  all  her  subjects, 
we  just  did  what  we  were  told.  She  it  was  who 
planned  the  whole  campaign,  marshalled  all  our 
forces,  made  every  move.  Yet  she  was  always 
the  same,  —  sweet,  motherly,  lovable.  The  Rev- 
erend Lamb  went  at  every  task  she  set  him 
without  a  whimper;  Miss  Anderson  stopped  her 
quibbling  and  silently  obeyed  ;  Nos.  i,  2,  and  3, 
catching  some  spark  of  her  resolute  soul,  were 
actually  and  seriously  useful ;  even  Leech  smoth- 
ered his  grin  and  greed,  and  for  the  first  time  in 
his  official  life  worked  without  pay.  And  Craig 
—  sturdy,  manly,  honest  little  Craig  —  he  was  like 
a  tug  dashing  here  and  there  as  directed,  and  tow- 
ing in  some  big  liner  after  whom  she  sent  him. 
The  chief  influences  of  Alameda,  political,  social, 
commercial,  ay !  religious,  even  those  influences 
316 


MARSHALLING   FOR   MERCY 


317 


that  a  few  weeks  before  were  clamoring  for  his 
blood,  were  now  brought  into  line  on  behalf  of 
Jesus.  I  have  written  "  religious  "  —  and  be  it 
recorded  here  that  Mrs.  Lamb  did  not  scruple  to 
enlist  the  Cohorts  of  Rome  in  her  mighty  move- 
ment. She  sought  out  Padre  Pablo,  and  Padre 
Pablo  at  her  behest,  and  with  a  zeal  that  did  him 
credit,  went  from  priest  to  priest  with  the  petition 
for  clemency  and  got  their  signatures.  Yea, 
more,  I  myself  was  present  when  the  good  Padre 
came  to  the  Institute,  —  think  of  it,  to  the  Insti- 
tute, and  handed  that  petition  to  Mrs.  Lamb,  tell- 
ing her  in  tones  triumphant  that  he  had  not  only 
the  priests,  but  had,  and  he  reverently  pointed  to 
it,  the  sign  manual  of  his  grace,  El  Obispo  —  the 
Bishop. 

In  the  common  thrill  of  humanity  inspired  by 
one  noble  woman,  religious  rancor  was  forgotten. 
The  press  —  and  oh  !  what  a  petty,  pitiful,  penny- 
grabbing  press  it  is,  not  daring  as  a  rule  to  call 
its  soul  its  own ;  the  bar,  as  pettifogging,  un- 
scrupulous, and  soulless  a  bar  as  is  to  be  found  in 
Christendom  ;  the  pulpit,  native  and  foreign  —  all, 
or  nearly  all  by  petition,  by  letters,  by  open  dec- 
larations, asked  mercy.  Now  came  back  to  Mrs. 
Lamb  the  bread  that  for  years  she  had  cast  upon 
the  waters.  Many  a  poor  wretch  whom  she  had 


318  JESUS   DELANEY 

aided  when  utterly  friendless  in  the  days  gone  by, 
had  reached  vantage  ground  of  more  or  less  im- 
portance and  rallied  to  her,  —  more,  who  never 
needed  aid  themselves,  knew  of  the  good  she 
had  wrought,  and  stood  by  her.  Public  opinion 
crystallized  in  the  light  and  heat  of  that  Christian 
soul. 

And  Mrs.  Lamb  got  the  petitions  and  the  letters 
and  the  editorials  and  the  sermons,  —  every  one  of 
them,  —  and  she  arranged  them  for  ready  reference 
and  bound  them  with  her  own  hands.  And  when 
all  was  ready  she  announced  that  she  herself  would 
present  them  to  Diaz,  that  she  herself  would  plead 
with  the  soldier  President  of  the  Republic  for  the 
life  of  the  lad  she  loved. 

I  begged  and  was  granted  permission  to  accom- 
pany her. 

There  was  a  crowd  at  the  train  to  see  us  off,  — 
the  faculty  and  Leech  and  Craig,  and  El  Pro- 
fesor  and  El  Pajaro  representing  the  defunct  Soci- 
edad  Benevolencia.  El  Pajaro  took  occasion  to 
embrace  me,  uttering  voluble  wishes  for  our  suc- 
cess ;  too  many  pressed  upon  us  for  further  dem- 
onstration on  his  part,  otherwise  I  have  no  doubt 
that  as  on  a  former  manifestation  of  his  good  will 
he  would  have  waltzed  me  up  and  down  the 
station. 


MARSHALLING   FOR   MERCY 


319 


Many  of  Mrs.  Lamb's  wards  were  there,  and 
they  had  flowers  for  her,  and  the  poor  creatures 
cried  at  parting  as  if  she  were  going  off  forever 
instead  of  for  a  few  days. 

We  stood  on  the  rear  platform  of  our  car,  and 
when  the  train  drew  out  the  crowd  cheered. 
Ladies  waved  their  handkerchiefs  and  gentlemen 
their  hats  as  long  as  we  were  in  sight,  and  even 
when  all  else  was  blurred  by  the  distance  I  could 
discern  El  Pajaro,  who,  mounted  on  the  shoulders 
of  El  Profesor,  was  wildly  flourishing  his  som- 
brero. 


CHAPTER   LIV 

L'HOMME  QUI  KIT 

THE  City  of  Mexico  is  the  Paris  of  the  Repub- 
lic. It  draws  to  itself  all  Mexicans  who  have 
money  to  spend,  and  offers  them  ways  and  means 
of  spending  it.  It  is  the  centre  of  power,  opu- 
lence, and  typhoid.  Nowhere  on  earth  can  be 
seen  such  contrasts.  Along  the  street  passed  an 
endless  parade  of  ostentatious  equipages,  each 
rivalling  the  other  in  splendor,  footmen  in  gor- 
geous livery,  ladies  ablaze  with  jewellery,  while  the 
walk  was  almost  impassable  with  beggars  shock- 
ing in  their  misery  and  filth  ;  automobile  carriages 
whizzed  by  primeval  ox-carts  ;  horses  imported  at 
marvellous  cost  and  horses  that  should  be  de- 
ported at  any  sacrifice;  here  a  palace,  magnifi- 
cent, superb,  beside  that  palace  a  windowless 
hovel,  whose  occupants  lived  without  bed,  chair, 
or  table ;  clouted  savages  and  courtly  clad  digni- 
taries ;  a  constant  carnival  of  extravagance  and 
pride,  a  dreadful  background  of  shamelessness 
and  want. 

320 


L'HOMME   QUI    KIT  321 

But  Mrs.  Lamb  and  myself  spent  no  time  in 
sight-seeing.  We  were  at  the  American  legation 
before  its  clerks  put  in  an  appearance.  The 
American  Minister  received  us  kindly.  He  had 
for  years  represented  a  southern  state  in  the 
United  States  Senate  and  was  a  typical,  old-time 
southern  gentleman.  He  readily  promised  to 
arrange  an  audience  with  President  Diaz  and 
talked  very  frankly  regarding  him  and  our  pros- 
pects. 

"  A  great  man,  madam,  a  great  man  is  Diaz. 
You  will  get  a  hearing,  madam,  but  don't  be  san- 
guine. God  bless  you,  sir "  (turning  to  me), 
"Diaz  is  iron  —  iron,  sir.  No  use  to  attempt  to 
reach  his  heart,  sir,  none,  by  Gad,  sir!  I  have 
tried  it,  madam,  I  have  tried  it  —  Cold  as  chilled 
steel,  sir,  chilled  steel,  by  Gad,  sir  —  But  a  great 
man  —  a  great  man." 

We  went  next  to  the  American  Consul-General. 
My  experience  with  Leech  had  prejudiced  me 
against  consuls,  but  I  found  this  one  not  a  bit 
like  him.  He  was  genial,  cordial,  almost  demon- 
strative in  his  kindness.  He  looked  over  our 
papers  and  agreed  to  go  with  us  to  the  palace 
and  supplement  Mrs.  Lamb's  plea  with  his  own. 

"It's  going  out  of  my  way  to  do  so,  but  I'm 
heart  and  soul  with  the  mission  cause,"  he  said 

Y 


322  JESUS   DELANEY 

"  and  a  constant  reader  of  your  paper."  (He 
referred  to  the  Clarion,  from  whose  editors  I  had 
letters.)  "  Don't  let  your  paper  abuse  me  for  it 
—  you  understand,  eh  "  —  and  he  clapped  me  on 
the  back  and  laughed  an  amazingly  hearty  laugh. 
That  laugh,  I  heard  afterward,  was  the  founda- 
tion and  mainstay  of  his  political  career.  It  had 
won  his  way  from  the  bar  (where  laughs  don't 
count)  to  the  Congress  of  the  United  States,  and 
to  the  office  of  governor.  Of  course  it  didn't 
keep  him  long  in  either  place,  for  at  times  either 
place  is  no  laughing  matter;  but  when  he  got 
out  of  one  soft  job  that  became  serious,  he  soon 
laughed  his  way  to  another.  It  was  a  loud  laugh, 
but  mellow  and  musical;  it  won  at  once  your 
confidence  and  good  will ;  it  pleased  you  when 
he  told  a  story  himself,  and  pleased  still  more 
when  you  told  a  story  of  your  own.  Even  the 
Mexicans,  who  seldom  laugh,  were  charmed  with 
it.  It  was  for  them  a  lexicon  in  which  could  be 
found  the  most  agreeable  meaning. 

While  chatting  with  Mrs.  Lamb  and  myself, 
several  of  their  prominent  officials  dropped  in. 

"  Buenos  dias,  Seftor,"  he  would  hail  one  with 
his  laugh. 

"Como  esta  listed?"  to  another,  and  a  laugh 
covered  his  retreat  from  that  other's  response. 


L'HOMME   QUI    KIT  323 

"  Muy  allegro!  Muy  allegro  !  "  he  would  shout 
laughing  to  a  third,  and  one  and  all  pronounced 
him  "  Un  Americano  muy  simpatico."  We  were 
indeed  grateful  for  his  voluntary  offer  to  go  with 
us  to  the  President  and  aid  in  the  presentation  of 
our  case.  But  he,  too,  warned  us  against  setting 
our  hopes  too  high.  From  none  with  whom  we 
consulted  did  we  get  any  word  of  encouragement. 
It  was  arranged  that  we  would  be  received  by  the 
President  the  following  day. 

That  night,  walking  along  the  streets  lit  by 
electric  lights,  I  paused  before  the  executive 
palace.  Its  many  windows  glowed  gloriously. 
Soldiers  were  on  guard  at  the  entrance  and 
patrolled  the  grounds.  While  I  stood  there  ad- 
miring, a  carriage  drove  up  and  from  it  alighted 
Sefior  Benavides.  The  guard  presented  arms  and 
he  was  ushered  in.  My  heart  fell,  for  I  surmised 
his  mission. 


CHAPTER   LV 

PORFIRIO    DIAZ 

PORFIRIO  DIAZ!  Statesman-Soldier,  Autocrat- 
Patriot,  Imperial-President!  Absolute  Monarch 
of  fourteen  millions  of  people !  To  him  we  were 
to  submit  the  fate  of  Jesus. 

We  came  to  the  palace  an  hour  before  the  time 
appointed.  We  waited  almost  another  hour  while 
deputation  after  deputation  preceded  us.  Office- 
seekers,  tourists,  suppliants  —  I  watched  the 
crowd  and  wondered  at  the  endurance  of  the 
man  who  received  and  listened  to  them  all.  I 
was  nervous;  my  mind  dwelt  on  Benavides' 
visit,  and  I  felt  that  our  case  was  prejudged. 
Even  the  good  fellowship  of  the  Consul-General 
who  waited  with  us  failed  to  divert  me.  He 
talked  and  laughed  and  told  stories  without  get- 
ting a  word  from  me ;  but  I  doubt  if  he  noticed 
my  abstraction  —  he  was  always  happy  in  the 
sound  of  his  own  voice. 

At  last  we  were  called. 

I  had  seen  pictures  of  Diaz  and  had  formed 
324 


PORFIRIO   DIAZ 


325 


my  impression  of  him,  but  a  different  man  was 
now  before  me  —  a  well-built  man  of  medium 
height,  of  a  complexion  and  cast  of  countenance 
pronouncedly  Indian.  The  short,  straight,  iron- 
gray  hair,  the  close-clipped  mustache,  the  small, 
firm  mouth,  the  heavy  jaws,  the  strong  chin,  and 
sharp,  deep-set,  black  eyes  told  of  indomitable 
will.  Cold,  hard,  fixed,  there  was  not  a  weak 
line  in  his  whole  make-up.  He  stood  like  a 
uniformed  statue  in  bronze.  Hope  froze  at  sight 
of  him. 

The  minister  had  already  presented  our  bound 
volume  of  petitions,  letters,  and  testimonials,  so 
the  Consul-General  at  once  opened  the  case. 
He  was  as  much  at  ease  as  if  telling  a  fresh  story 
at  a  cross-road  tavern  in  his  own  state.  He 
spoke  well,  yet  seemed  to  me  scarce  serious 
enough;  indeed,  he  missed  no  chance  for  a 
jocular  allusion,  nor  failed  to  round  that  up  with 
his  usual  laugh.  But  while  the  President  listened 
respectfully,  he  never  once  looked  our  way,  nor 
did  even  a  smile  acknowledge  the  consul's  levity. 
Ever  that  hard,  impenetrable  front !  The  consul 
concluded  and  an  interpreter  put  his  remarks  in 
Spanish ;  but  I  was  satisfied  the  President  gave  no 
more  heed  to  the  translation  than  he  did  to  the 
original.  And  my  soul  revolted !  "  Does  this 


326  JESUS   DELANEY 

man  with  his  sphinx-like  mien  know  there  is  a 
God  before  Whom  he  must  some  day  plead  ? 
Does  this  impassive  creature  with  all  his  power  —  " 
But  Mrs.  Lamb  now  rose  to  speak.  She  was 
pale  as  death,  yet  her  grand  eyes  shone  clear 
and  calm.  She  spoke  in  Spanish,  but  I  knew  her 
meaning. 

"  An  American  woman  has  come  before  you,  Mr. 
President,  to  plead  for  the  life  of  the  grandson  of 
a  Mexican  soldier."  At  the  first  phrase  that  fell 
from  her  lips,  articulate  music,  he  was  moved. 
His  lids  lifted,  his  keen  eyes  sought  hers.  "  I 
plead  for  the  grandson  of  your  companion-in-arms, 
your  patriot-brother  in  the  days  of  Mexico's  sorest 
need,  Colonel  Villareal."  At  the  mention  of  the 
name  I  saw  distinctly  on  the  old  hero's  face  a  thrill 
of  recognition.  He  gazed  at  her  intently,  catching 
every  word,  impressed  by  her  presence  and  plainly 
swayed  by  the  magic  of  her  eloquence.  She  told 
the  story  of  the  life  of  Jesus  —  his  early  poverty, 
his  entrance  to  the  Institute,  his  final  collegiate 
course.  She  dwelt  upon  his  noble  qualities.  She 
showed  that  even  his  weaknesses  were  not  the  out- 
come of  a  bad  nature  or  of  vicious  habits,  but  rather 
resulted  from  the  hot,  impulsive  blood  of  his  soldier 
ancestry.  She  dwelt  upon  his  love  of  country  and 
of  race,  his  veneration  for  his  country's  laws  and 


PORFIRIO   DIAZ 


327 


for  his  country's  ruler.  And  lastly  came  her  plea 
for  mercy  for  the  lad  she  loved.  I  had  to  rise  as 
she  spoke  and  so  did  the  Consul-General.  In- 
spired ?  Mexico's  iron  ruler  yielded  to  the  spell ; 
the  heart  of  the  man  was  touched.  She  finished. 
Porfirio  Diaz  walked  forward,  lifted  her  hand  to 
his  lips  and  said  in  Spanish,  — 

"  Jesus  was  made  for  a  soldier,  not  a  missionary." 


CHAPTER   LVI 

ARMA   VIRUMQUE 

IT  was  the  Diario  Official  that  proclaimed  the 
news.  Elation  had  calmed  to  hope,  hope  cooled 
to  doubt,  and  doubt  was  followed  by  fear  during 
the  weary  days  of  waiting,  when  came  the  official 
journal  with  the  announcement  that  Jesus  Delaney, 
condemned  to  be  shot  by  the  Federal  Court  of  Ala- 
meda,  had  his  sentence  commuted  to  life  service 
in  the  army.  He  was  saved.  Life  service  in  the 
army !  It  was  not  what  we  had  prayed  for,  nor 
what  we  at  first  expected  from  the  words  and 
manner  of  the  President,  but  it  was  an  infinite  re- 
lief from  the  doom  of  death,  and  our  feelings  were 
joy  and  gratitude.  We  left  that  day  for  Alameda. 
The  glad  tidings  preceded  us,  and  there  was  as 
large  a  crowd  as  bade  us  God-speed  to  bid  us  wel- 
come. 

Mrs.  Lamb  got  an  ovation.  Craig  alone  of  all 
assembled  showed  no  enthusiasm. 

"  Soldier  ?  Dog's  life.  Better  shot,"  he  growled 
at  me. 

328 


ARMA  VIRUMQUE  329 

We  drove  to  the  jail.  Jesus  was  not  there  —  he 
had  already  been  transferred  to  the  cuartel  (the 
military  barracks),  and  we  were  told  that  the  regi- 
ment to  which  he  was  assigned  had  received  orders 
that  morning  to  move  at  once  against  the  Yaquis. 
Away  we  hurried  to  the  cuartel.  Troops  were 
already  forming  in  the  street,  and  all  about  there 
was  the  stir  and  excitement  of  a  prospective  cam- 
paign. We  sought  the  colonel  in  his  quarters  — 
a  short  man,  so  fat  that  the  effort  of  talking  seemed 
to  make  him  black  in  the  face.  He  courteously 
granted  Mrs.  Lamb's  request  and  despatched  an 
officer  for  Jesus.  In  a  moment  the  officer  returned, 
followed  by  a  tall  young  soldier.  We  did  not  rec- 
ognize him  in  uniform ;  the  stiff,  peaked  cap,  the 
belted  jacket,  the  coarse  guarraches,  were  a  com- 
plete disguise.  But  it  was  Jesus.  Mrs.  Lamb,  un- 
mindful of  the  shock  it  gave  the  colonel,  whose  eyes 
stuck  out  to  the  popping  point,  threw  her  arms 
about  the  boy's  neck  and  kissed  him  again  and 
again  while  they  murmured  in  Spanish  their  mutual 
love. 

"  All  will  be  well  in  God's  good  time,  Jesus,"  I 
said  as  we  embraced. 

"All  is  well  now,"  he  answered,  and  then  we 
saw  how  his  face  was  lit  up  with  a  new  sense  of 
life,  ambition,  and  confidence.  No  shame,  no 


330  JESUS   DELANEY 

humiliation,  no  disappointment  there :  he  stood 
erect,  his  attitude  almost  exultant. 

"  I  am  a  soldier's  grandson,"  he  said,  "  and  have 
always  longed  for  a  soldier's  life.  I  shall  earn 
promotion  by  doing  my  duty  and  fighting  bravely 
for  my  country's  cause." 

"  And  the  cause  of  Christ,  Jesus  ?  Will  you 
not  continue  to  fight  for  that  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Lamb. 

His  expression  changed,  he  seemed  embarrassed, 
and  hung  his  head. 

"Ta-ra-tara!  Ta-ra-tara  !  "  a  bugle  sounded  on 
the  street.  At  the  first  peal  he  straightened  to  his 
full  height,  squared  his  broad  shoulders,  and  with 
uplifted  head  drank  in  the  music  of  it. 

"Is  it  not  glorious?"  he  said,  the  martial  fire 
sparkling  in  his  eyes. 

"  Ta-ra-tara !  Ta-ra-tara !  "  Another  peal,  and 
then  on  a  sharp  order  from  the  officer  who  stood 
near,  Jesus  turned  and  without  a  word  marched  to 
his  place  in  the  ranks. 

"  Ta-ra-tara !     Ta-ra-tara !  " 

The  column  moved  grandly  away. 


CARD   FROM   MR.    BROWN  33! 


CARD   FROM   MR.    BROWN 

This  manuscript  was  found  by  me  among  the 
papers  of  my  late  partner,  and  I  make  it  public,  as 
such  was  his  intention.  It  is  evidently  an  elabora- 
tion of  a  diary  of  his  trip  to  Mexico,  the  facts 
jotted  down  from  day  to  day  being  closely  fol- 
lowed, and  portions  (the  reference  to  myself,  for 
instance,  written  en  route)  copied  word  for  word. 

Mutual  friends  of  ours  to  whom  I  have  shown 
the  manuscript,  say  that  it  ends  too  abruptly,  that 
more  must  have  been  written,  but  diligent  search 
failed  to  reveal  anything  further. 

My  own  opinion  is  that  it  goes  far  enough,  and 
what  befell  this  young  Mexican  might  have  been 
expected.  His  case  reminds  me  of  a  fable  :  "  Once 
there  was  a  good  dog  who  thought  that  wolves 
were  dogs  run  wild,  and  — "  but  my  partner  tells 
the  fable  in  the  very  beginning  of  his  manuscript. 


WHERE  THE  TRADE  WIND  BLOWS 

BY 
MRS.    SCHUYLER   CROWNINSHIELD 

Cloth.      Cr.  8vo.      $1.50 

The  Public  Ledger,  Philadelphia 

"  A  dozen  tales  are  included.  Each  is  in  its  way  a  gem  of  exe- 
cution, clear  cut  and  reflecting  the  vivid  light  and  color  of  the  West 
Indian  landscape  and  character." 

The  Times  Herald,  Chicago 

"  Spirit  and  wit  gleam  through  the  pages;  the  stories  are  remark- 
ably well  written,  and  each  episode  —  for  the  sketches  are  hardly 
more  —  has  its  pith  and  point. " 

Boston  Budget 

"  Replete  with  pathos  and  picturesqueness.  .  .  .  All  in  all  these 
stories  of  an  unfamiliar  locale  are  well  worth  while,  and  will  be  read 
by  all  who  care  for  powerful  character  sketching  and  skilful  crea- 
tion of  atmosphere." 

The  Outlook 

"  Decidedly  worth  reading.  .  .  .  There  is  in  each  story  a  note  of 
passion  and  a  single  strong  situation." 

The  Inter-Ocean,  Chicago 

"  Most  fascinating  —  an  absolutely  new  note  in  fiction.  There 
is  nothing  short  of  genius  in  these  wonderful  panoramas  of  life 
.  .  .  keenly  and  vividly  appealing  in  wit  and  pathos,  in  humor  and 
tenderness,  in  suggestion,  and  withal,  a  breadth  of  view  that  dis- 
criminates well  the  relative  values." 

The  Brooklyn  Eagle 

"  It  is  long  since  we  have  encountered  a  volume  so  satisfying,  so 
unpretentious,  and  so  thoroughly  artistic  and  expressive  as  this  clus- 
ter of  sketches." 

Worcester  Spy 

"  They  are  extremely  interesting  and  well  written,  and  from  their 
very  location  and  the  unfamiliar  types  of  character  portrayed,  possess 
an  unusual  freshness  and  brightness." 


PUBLISHED  BY 

THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK 


AT  YOU-ALL'S   HOUSE 


JAMES   NEWTON   BASKETT 

Author  of  "  The  Story  of  the  Birds"  etc. 

INTRODUCTION  BY  HAMILTON  W.  MABIE 


12mo.     Cloth.     Gilt  Top  and  Sides.     Price, 


The  Courier,  Buffalo 

"The  tale  is  restful  ...  a  simple  story  told  admirably.  .  .  . 
Insensibly  in  reading  this  charming  tale  one  falls  into  the  mood  of 
the  out-of-doors,  and  the  story  comes  out  of  the  rush  of  events  as 
gratefully  as  a  cool  breeze  into  an  overheated  room." 

The  Times,  New  York 

"  James  Newton  Baskett  is  a  writer  of  no  small  promise.  .  .  . 
He  has  insight,  sympathy,  profound  and  affectionate  acquaintance 
with  nature,  and  a  strong  grip  upon  the  vital  elements  of  human 
nature.  ...  In  short,  this  book  has  vitality  and  human  feeling, 
and  it  ought  to  be  widely  read." 

The  Republic,  St.  Louis 

"We  have  long  known  the  Virginian,  the  Georgian,  the 
Tennesseean,  and  Kentuckian ;  the  far  Westerner,  the  Down 
Easter,  and  the  Louisianian  ;  but  rich  as  her  fields,  forests,  and 
streams  are  in  the  beauties  of  nature,  and  as  plenteous  in  rugged 
types  her  country  places,  Missouri  has  had  no  chronicler  for  them. 
At  You- Airs  House  is  charming  in  its  faithful  pictures." 

The  Outlook 

"  Through  the  book  there  runs  a  delightful  vein  of  natural  obser- 
vation and  sentiment ;  indeed,  the  story  is  a  romance  of  nature 
quite  as  much  as  of  life.  .  .  .  This  introduction  of  nature  gives  the 
story  color,  delicacy,  refinement,  and  variety." 


PUBLISHED  BY 

THE   MACMILLAN   COMPANY 

66  FIFTH  AVENUE,  NEW  YORK 


UC  SOUTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 


IIIIIMIH  Hill  111  limn  I"" '«     '••"  •  " 

A    000  677  933    4 


